


Subtle

by 4ever_the_nme



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, F/M, Tumblr: westallenhiatusweek
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-09
Updated: 2017-06-17
Packaged: 2018-05-25 18:14:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 33,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6205549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/4ever_the_nme/pseuds/4ever_the_nme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If you're not careful, you'll miss it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Barry

When Barry Allen walked into the apartment that he shared with one of his closest friends after returning from a week-long criminstalistics conference, the last thing he expected was to be attacked by said friend.  He had just walked in and had dropped his suitcase hard on the floor when Bette San Souci, his old college girlfriend, and current roommate, came from seemingly nowhere and threw herself at him, pushing him back against the door.  Her eyes were wide as she clamped her hand over his mouth and pressed him harder against the door while holding a finger over her lips, signaling for him to be quiet.  Barry furrowed his brows in confusion, thinking that someone dangerous was in the apartment, but Bette's smile that crossed her lips swiftlu punted that thought out of his head.

“Hi, Barry,” she greeted him with a whisper, though she had yet to remove her hand from his mouth.  “Welcome back.”

Barry shook his head to remove his mouth from under her hand and frowned at her disapprovingly. “What's going on, B?  Why did you just att-”

Bette's hand slapped over his mouth once more, effectively silencing him, as she turned her head and stared worriedly at the door of the room that had once belonged to their other roommate, Mark Mardon, before he had moved out three weeks before.  Barry's eyes followed hers as he found himself more and more confused by her actions.

“Shhhh,” she shushed him sternly.  “You're going to disturb Iris, and she gets really angry and frustrated when people disrupt her while she's writing.”

“Who's Iris?  And what in the hell is going on, B?” Barry demanded once he had pulled his mouth from her hand again.  He had learned his lesson this time and had lowered his voice to a whisper.

Bette let go of him and started walking away.  She looked over her shoulder and beckoned him to follow but put another finger over her lips to tell him to remain quiet.  Rolling his eyes at the whole thing, Barry followed reluctantly.

“Iris is our new roommate,” Bette expounded at her normal volume once they were both seated at the kitchen table.  “She's my best friend, who I've known since I was little.  She needed a place to stay after her brother got married and decided to move to Coast City with his wife, so I told her that she should come and stay here.”

“B, I thought we agreed that we were going to find our next roommate _together_.  I can't believe that you would just move someone in while I was away and not even tell me about it!”

“I'm sorry about not telling you, Barry, but Iris's situation called for haste, and that's why I made a lot of the calls that I made.”  Bette actually looked slightly remorseful for her actions, but that lasted for less than a second before she was grinning again.  “I'm not going to apologize for moving Iris in, though.  She's a little stand-offish and something of a recluse, but she's one of the most amazing people I know, and she'll be a perfect addition to the apartment.”

Barry scoffed but shrugged his shoulders.  “Whatever, I guess this just saves me from having to run people's credit and call references,” he relented.  “She checks out, right?”

Bette nodded her head frantically.  “Her credit is perfect!  She could be living in a lot nicer digs if she wanted, but like I said before, she's a recluse and likes to be surrounded by familiar people, which is why she agreed to move in when I offered her Mark's old room.”

“What's with us having to be quiet around her room?” he asked, needing more clarification.

“She's a writer, and she gets really focused when she's working,” Bette answered.  “She's in the middle of writing her newest book, and I know she's been stressed about it for a while, so I thought it best that we give her a nice, quiet atmosphere for her to write.”

“What kinds of books does she write?” Barry inquired, hoping to glean more information about their newest roommate.

“I don't know – something about heroes and villains, or something like that,” Bette remarked with An elusive shrug of her shoulders.  “All I know is that she gets really focused and intense when she's in the middle of writing, so we just need to be quiet.”

“For real, Bette?” Barry groaned as he ran his hands tiredly over his face.  He did not feel like dealing with this, especially after a four-hour flight.  “We're suppose to be quiet in our own home because of her?”

“We don't have to be quiet _everywhere_ , just when we're by her room,” she reasoned, but then a smirk crossed her lips.  “That means that since you're in the room next to hers, you have tone down your porn film theatrics with all of the ladies you parade through here, especially that Patty-girl who has the most annoying voice _ever._ Maybe you can take your playboy moves to your girlfriends' houses instead of bringing it here, especially now that you're outnumbered. _”_

Barry narrowed his eyes suspiciously.  “You did this on purpose, didn't you?” he snapped at her accusingly.  “You brought her here so that you could get your own agendas voted in for the apartment, didn't you? You are one sly dog, San Souci.”

“I have to admit that that was part of it,” Bette responded, showing no remorse for her actions.  “But I also love Iris, and I'm happy to have her next door to me instead of a whole city away.”

Rolling his eyes, Barry rose from his seat.  “Whatever, B, I'm too tired to argue.  I just wanna unpack my suitcase and go to sleep.  We'll talk more about this in the morning.”

“Welcome back, Barry,” Bette called out to his retreating form, but Barry just looked over his shoulder and sent her a nod before heading to his room.  

He was about to walk into his door after picking up his suitcase from the entryway, when he found himself pausing in front of the door next to his.  He was curious about the new person who lay behind it, and was almost tempted to knock and introduce himself, just to get a rile out of them, but he thought better of it.  He would introduce himself later when he was fully rested.

 

* * *

 

The first time Barry meets Iris, he gets a door slammed in his face.

He had just gotten home from a long day at work that had felt a lot longer because Patty Spivot –  his self-proclaimed girlfriend –  had refused to let him work on the mountain of paperwork on his desk until he had agreed to have dinner with her that coming Friday.  He was loosening his tie and making his way to his room, when he noticed the door next to his slightly ajar.

Even though Iris had been there a whole week, Barry had yet to get so much as a peek at her.  He heard her typing whenever he walked past her door, but she had never once come out when he was home or awake.  He knew that she came out of her room because sometimes when he went into the kitchen, he would see two plates in the sink from her and Bette sharing a meal, which Bette was all too happy to confirm to him, and when he went into the bathroom, there was a new toothbrush next to his, but her face still remained a mystery to him.  She was like a ghost that could be heard but never seen, not that he had minded too much.  She was quiet and she paid rent.  That was all that was suppose to matter.

He did not realize just how curious he was to actually catch a glimpse of her until he saw the door of her room open and found himself standing directly in front of it, trying to peep through the crack.  The fact that he was acting like a total creeper was not lost to him, but he felt that it was worth it when he caught sight of her profile where she was seated at her desk, typing frantically while her eyes were fixated on her computer screen.

Iris was far from what he expected, at least from what he could see through the crack.  She was dressed in comfortable clothes - a plain white t-shirt that hung off her dark brown shoulder, dark gray sweatpants that looked a little big on her, and large black socks that seemed to swallow her feet.  Her hair was a dark mass of curls that was pulled up into a messy bun with a stray curl hanging down here and there, framing her face.  A pair of dark-framed glasses sat on the bridge of a perfect nose with the lenses reflecting the images on her computer screen, hiding her eyes from his view.  Her lips were full and red, especially her bottom lip that she had just released from the hold of her perfectly straight, white teeth.  She was pretty enough, and completely normal-looking, unlike the image he had conjured of her in his head.

When Bette had said that Iris was something of a recluse, he had automatically pictured her as one of the frumpier looking people he saw on the hoarder documentaries he sometimes watched when there was nothing else on.  He had pictured a woman with crooked yellow teeth, crazed eyes and bad skin.  His imagination had run away with that throughout the week the more he heard her walking about only for her to just disappear into her room as soon as he would open his door.  The fact that she never made an attempt to introduce herself to him at all made him think she was purposely avoiding him, which in turn only added to the suspicion that she was somehow scared to show her face to him.  Staring at her through the crack in the door, however, he found that he could not have been more wrong.

“Hey, what are you doing?”

Barry jumped at Bette's voice suddenly sounding off directly into his ear, and he stepped back to see his other roommate looking at him with her arms folded with her foot tapping on the ground.  Her lips were pressed into a thin line and her eyes were narrowed, making him aware that he had been caught in a pretty compromising position, even though it was completely innocent-ish.

“Were you seriously spying on Iris?” she hissed out through gritted teeth.

“I-I-I...” he stammered guiltily, not knowing what he could say that could get him out of it since he really had been spying on their newest roommate.  He flicked his eyes back at the door, which still remained slightly ajar, though he swore he heard the clacking of the keyboard stop.

Bette rolled her eyes and walked past him before she opened the door wider and stepped inside Iris's room.  She turned around to face him while holding the door open.  She then beckoned him to come forward.

“Iris, Barry wants to meet you,” she said loudly to the woman behind her, the tone of her voice dour, like she was bored of the whole situation already.

Barry reluctantly walked forward and stood in the doorway where he nervously waved at Iris, who was still seated in front of her computer, though now her eyes were fixed on him.  He could actually see her eyes now and noticed that they were dark brown almost black, though they took on a more honey-like color when she looked into the light.

“H-Hi, I'm Barry,” he greeted her awkwardly, his tongue tripping over the words. “It's finally nice to actually meet you.”

She looked at him solemnly, her eyes raking over his entire body before flicking back to his face.  Her demeanor remained impassive as she took him in before she simply returned her gaze back to her computer screen.  “Hello, Barry, I'm Iris,” she offered simply and then started typing again like he wasn't there.

Barry felt the dismissal and found himself frowning as he turned to Bette who was grinning wide as she looke between him and Iris thoughtully, like she now found the whole situation suddenly vert entertaining. “I knew it,” she said as she grabbed the doorknob.  “This is perfect,” she added before slamming the door in Barry's face.

 

* * *

 

It was nearly a week-and-half later before Barry saw Iris again.  It was a little past one in the morning, and he had gotten up, needing to pee.  When he had walked out of the bathroom, he had noticed a light in kitchen and slowly made his way over, thinking that Bette had left the light on, which she had done countless times before.  He was still half asleep when he walked into the kitchen, but the sight he walked in on woke him up like a glass of cold water being thrown in his face.

The refrigerator door, which could be seen once he walked into the kitchen, was open and Iris was standing in front of it, her body silhouetted by the light coming from inside.  From what he could see, she was wearing a lot more form-fitting clothes than their first encounter because he swore that he was seeing every single curve of her slender body.  His throat went dry when he saw her bend over to reach for something in the back of the fridge, giving him an even better view of her backside.  He almost expected Bette to suddenly pop up and berate him for ogling her friend, but no one came.  He shook his head and silently berated himself on her behalf before clearing his throat of the lump that had begun to build inside it.

Barry immediately knew he had made a huge mistake when he saw Iris visibly start at the sound of him clearing his throat, which led to her hitting her head on the bottom of the freezer door with a loud _thud_. He ran to her side, silently spouting off a litany of swear words inside his head when he saw the tears in her eyes and saw her glasses become askew on her nose as she placed her hand where her head had collided with the door.  The accusing look she shot at him only made him want to just back up and leave before he embarrassed himself even more than he had, but he weathered through it to crouch down to her level. Even in the midst of his horror, he could not help but secretly delight in the new bit of information he had just gotten: she was tiny!

“God, I am so sorry!” he cried out as he stood beside her, placing his hands on her shoulders and pulling up a chair for her to sit on. “I didn't mean to scare you!”

She continued to rub at the smarting wound on her head and glared at him while fixing her glasses.  “So what were you meaning to do when you cleared your throat after sneaking up behind me?” she deadpanned back at him.

Barry awkwardly rubbed at the back of his neck, feeling his face warm as he realized that she had a point. He avoided answering and escaped from her glaring eyes by going to the freezer and retrieving an ice pack.  When he wrapped the pack in a towel and handed it to her, he was pleased to see that she seemed a lot less hostile as she focused on placing the pack gently on what was most likely going to be a large lump on the top of her head.

“I know I must seem like such a creep to you,” he said, placing himself in the chair across the table from her, thinking it best to keep some space between them.  “I know our initial meeting and this encounter have probably painted me in a bad light, but I swear that I'm not a pervert or anything like that.”

The disbelieving look that crossed her face just confirmed how poorly he had handled their first interactions.  He sighed heavily and gazed at her pleadingly. “I'd really appreciate it if we could possibly just.. start over?”

Iris did not say anything for a long moment, her eyes merely looking at Barry searchingly from behind her dark frames.  The silence was so long and tense that Barry was almost tempted to just give it up and return to his room with the thought of avoiding Iris for the rest of his life, but before he could follow through with that urge, she nodded her had in reluctant acceptance.

“Hello, Barry, my name is Iris,” she said, extending her free hand to him.

Barry smiled gratefully as he grasped the hand firmly in his own.  “It's nice to meet you, Iris, I'm Barry,” he replied eagerly, hoping his smile would give off how appreciative he was of her giving him a second chance without creeping her out even more.  “Welcome to the apartment.”

Iris pulled back her hand after a quick shake, and nodded her head. “Thanks,” she mumbled back.  She abruptly rose from her seat immediately after, taking the icepack with her, leaving Barry to stare after her with a small victorious smirk on his face.

 

* * *

 

Following that night, Barry saw Iris a lot more often than he had before.  Even though he couldn't say that he saw her everyday due to her usually being busy writing her book and he being busy with his own life, there were usually no more than two days between sightings. She came out of her room more often, but it was still mostly during the times that he wasn't home, and even when she did come out while he was there, she only really talked with Bette – her interactions with him mostly consisted of a simple 'hello', 'hi', or just a nod in passing.  

He had initially assumed that it was her shyness that made her act so aloof around him, but when Bette had invited people over for a small party welcoming Iris to Central City, Iris had interacted with everyone with relative ease.  Sure, she still stayed close to Bette through most of the evening, and she was still a little withdrawn, but she never evaded people who tried to talk to her, and she never gave off the impression that she was uncomfortable when people tried to pull her into deeper conversation even though Barry could see in her eyes that she was.  People actually seemed to be drawn to her, seeking her opinions on different things and events, and she never shied away from any of it; in fact, she was pretty damn commanding of it all.  The only one she shied away from was him.

Every time he would attempt to draw her into conversation, she would avoid looking at him or would just give him single-word responses before escaping to the other side of the room or back to Bette's side. He could barely talk to her for more than five minutes before she ended up bolting, and Barry could not wrap his head around why.

He got the strong sense that despite their re-introduction in the kitchen, Iris still did not like him.  In addition to her not really speaking to him, he swore that whenever he walked into a room, she would shut down and make herself as small as possible, which was fairly easy given how tiny she was already.  She would look everywhere around the room except to where he was, avoiding him at all costs.  The only time she ever seemed to actually look at him was when she thought that he wasn't paying attention to her.  The moment he gazed back, her eyes would themselves away from him like a mouse being chased by a cat.  No matter what he did or how hard he tried, she would always keep her distance from him, which made him frustrated.

It wasn't like Barry was lacking in the female attention department.  Before Patty, he practically had a different girl in his bed every other night, which actually drove Bette crazy, but she had learned to live with it because both he and Mark had voted against her proposal that he be forbidden from bringing his romps home.  Women obviously had a thing for smart scientists who still liked to have a good time and were confident in themselves because he never really had to look hard for companionship, and he almost never had to try hard to get anyone to like him.  Even Bette, whom he dated in college but broke up with, remained good friends with him and had even agreed to move in with him in a platonic way after they had graduated from college. Everyone liked him, which was why he supposed he found it so hard to understand the fact that his new roommate seemed to despise him.

With Iris, everything had started off rough, but then he had gotten a chance to rectify it.  He had hoped that meant that she and he would get to be close, like he was with Bette, but she had built up a wall around herself that he couldn't get through. She was so hard to understand that he thought it best to enlist Bette to help him understand why she treated him the way that she did.

He regretted that decision almost immediately when Bette had snapped down on him like a steel trap before he could even get started.  Apparently, she wasn't a fan of his sneaky tactics when it came to Iris, especially since she had witnessed him peeping on her in the beginning before he and Iris had started off on a better foot. The red-haired explosives expert automatically took his questions the wrong way, jumpting to the assumption that Barry's queries were being made for motivations that were less than honorable.

“Don't you _dare_ even think about going in that direction with Iris, Bartholomew!” she had snarled at him as she placed a warning finger under his chin.  She had pulled out the big guns by calling him by his dreaded full name, which let him know that she was serious.  “Iris is not the kind of girl that you can toy around with.

Bette was always so calm and sweet, but she could be frightening when she was angry.  Her temper was fiery and explosive, which was why Barry wanted to soothe her fury before she got to the point where she would deman his head. Before he could argue and explain his true reasoning for wanting to know Iris, however, the fiery-haired beauty had already continued her rant.

“She's not the girl for you.”

“B, I'm not-”

“Leave Iris alone, Barry,” Bette stated, cutting him off sternly. “Stay with Patty.  Despite how much I abhor her, she can take your bullshit and still keep coming back.  Dealing with you is the only thing that's likable about her.”

She had then walked out of the room without letting him offer his piece, leaving Barry to stare at the place where she been standing, confused by what had happened.

Because he cherished his friendship with Bette, Barry decided that he would give up his endeavors to befriend Iris or even get to know her.  If keeping his distance from her meant keeping his fiery-haired roommate from killing him, then he was resigned to letting things stay the way they were with his newest roommate.

Of course, that notion didn't last long at all.  That very same evening, following Bette's blowout at him, Barry had walked into the kitchen and found Bette and Iris sitting at the table, eating mint chocolate-chip ice cream and talking about Bette's current boyfriend, Tony Woodward. They were so involved in their girl talk that they paid little attention to him as he appeared in the doorway. Barry chose to pay them the same courtesy as he made his way across the kitchen, giving them a wide berth, to grab a beer from the refrigerator.  It was as he was holding his beer in one hand and contemplating what he could eat with it that the sound of her laughter reached his ears.  

He had vaguely heard Bette telling Iris about something funny that Tony had done earlier that week, but he had forced himself to tune it out as he had eyed the leftover Chinese from two nights back. The sound of Iris's laughter, however, could not be easily ignored because Barry swore he could feel that laughter in the very center of his being.  It was such a huge contrast from everything he had heard from her up to that point that it was like someone had just picked him up and threw him into the middle of a lake without a life preserver.  Her laughter was musical.

Barry chanced a glance over his shoulder to where Iris and Bette were still giggling with one another at the table, and he immediately regretted it.  What was meant to be a quick glance turned into an unwavering stare as his eyes became fixated on the smile he saw on Iris's lips.  No matter how loudly his brain told him that he needed to look away, he could not force himself to listen.  He was transfixed.

Even though she didn't flaunt it, Iris West was a very attractive girl. Most of her clothes were worn for comfort rather than style or appearance, and her glasses that she always wore covered a large area of her face, but she was still capable of garnering a second glance from most people she walked by.  She was really pretty, even with the perpetual solemn look she always wore on her face. Seeing the smile on her face, however, decimated that image from his mind.  It was like a light turning on after being in the dark for a long time.  At first, it was almost too bright to look at as he tried to decipher the change in her face from what he was seeing to the memories of her sullen looks she shot him.  The longer she smiled, however, the more his eyes were able to become more accustomed to that foreign expression and the better he was able to see what he could not see before.  Iris was not just a pretty face, she was absolutely beautiful – the very epitome of beauty.

As if sensing that he was having this realization about her, Iris's eyes veered away from Bette's face and looked directly into his.  Barry became a deer caught in headlights because he knew that he had just been caught gawking at her, and yet he lacked the ability to avert his eyes from hers.  He was stuck in an awkward position both physically and mentally, and he was finding it difficult to gather his wits about him enough to rectify either.

To his horror the smile faded from her lips, and the happiness that had lit up her entire face faded with it.  The usual cool look reappeared just as she averted her eyes away from his to stare at her hands that were folded in front of her on top of the table.  Her sudden downturn in emotion did not go unnoticed because Barry felt Bette's cold glare burning into his back as he finally tore his eyes from Iris in order to finish his errand in the fridge.  He rolled his eyes and groaned quietly, knowing that another lecture was coming his way.

Iris made her excuses a second later and retreated from the kitchen, leaving Bette and Barry behind.  The latter frantically busied himself with fixing a sandwich, hoping that would deter the former from going in on him, but he wasn't so lucky.

“What in the hell are you doing, Barry?” Bette asked him, appearing at his side, her blue eyes glaring angrily at him.

“I'm trying to make a sandwich and catch the game, Bette,” he responded evasively, purposely avoiding looking at her.

“Did I, somehow, make myself unclear earlier?”

“Well, considering how you completely missed my point entirely, earlier, I think we both were pretty unclear.”  He knew that the snark wasn't doing him any favors, but his own defenses were rising and he couldn't stop it. “You assumed that I was asking about Iris because I was interested in sleeping with her, but that's not the case.”

“Really? You're going to pretend like you weren't just staring at her like she was a piece of prime rib less than a minute ago, or that you haven't spent the past three weeks that she's been here, staring after her with that dopey look you get when you want to make a move on a girl?”

Barry frowned.  “Okay, I will admit to staring at her, just now, but I have _not_ been staring at her at all these past three weeks!  I'm not interested in her like that, B!”

“You could have fooled me, Barry. The way your eyes follow her everywhere she goes whenever she walks into a room must be all in my imagination, even though everyone else in the same room as you and her has seen it, too."

Furrowing his brow, Barry looked at Bette, confused.  “What are you talking about?  You're not making sense.”

“Oh, please!  You think that I haven't seen you always becoming alert whenever she walks into the room?” Bette fired back at him.  “Other people have seen it, too, Barry. It's not just me.”

Barry opened his mouth to refute, but once again, Bette kept going off.

“Lisa actually came up to me after the party last weekend, and she asked if Iris was your new girlfriend.  When I told her that you guys barely even talked, she told me that she had tried talking to you multiple times throughout the night but that you were too fixed on what Iris was doing to even notice that she was trying to hit on you the whole night.  

“Even Tony asked me what was up with you because he said that you barely talked to anyone the entire night because you were always hovering around Iris.”

Barry was confused.  He heard the words that were coming out of her mouth, but his head couldn't quite wrap around how badly everything had been misconstrued.  Sure, his curiosity had been piqued by Iris, and sure, he had found her pretty, but he wasn't interested her romantically.  How could he be when she was constantly evading and avoiding him at every turn?  What they had seen was him trying to get to know his newest roommate.  That was it.

“That's just not true!  I don't know what you or anyone thinks they saw but they were all mistaken because I don't think of Iris like that,” he declared firmly.  “The only reason I was even asking questions about her earlier was because I wanted to know why she treats me the way that she does.  I mean, she's always ducking out whenever I walk into a room that she's in, and she gets really shy when she's around me.  I can barely get in a word before she usually just bolts, and it's driving me insane because I want to get to know her, but she just keeps shutting down my efforts.”

Bette sighed as she pinched the bridge of her nose and shook her head in exasperation.

“Iris is not like all the other girls you like to play around with, Barry,” she replied with another sigh, her voice gentle again as she seemed to have decided to try another approach to the situation.  “She's been through a lot of shit growing up, and yet she still came out of all of it as this amazing person who feels a lot but is afraid of showing it.”

Barry listened silently, refusing to speak just in case the sound of his voice broke the moment and stopped Bette from continuing.

“All I'm going to say,” Bette continued on, “is that Iris is very strong but very sensitive.  If you hurt her, she shatters, but she will still try and hide it because she always feels the need to keep up the strong facade that she's been putting up for years.  The fact that she feels the need to keep that facade up around you means that either you are making her uncomfortable, or that she may feel more for you than she lets on.  In either case,  I _need_ _you_ to leave this alone – to leave _her_ alone.”

“B, I-”

“Just _listen_ to me, Barry,” Bette interjected pleadingly, the fire flaring up in her blue eyes. There was desperation in those eyes as well as something Barry could only read as fear.  “You have Patty.  You obviously seem to care about her, but you're letting your curiosity allow your eyes to wander.  Frankly, I'm used to that, but if you let them wander, don't let them become fixated on Iris. She's not made for the drama that your life entails, and she will end up getting hurt, which she does not deserve.  So just, please, leave her alone.”

She stared at him earnestly after saying her piece, and Barry understood that she was looking for confirmation that he would do as she asked. It was the perfect time for him to put to rest her assumptions that he felt anything beyond curiosity for Iris – to let all of the misconceptions and mistaken thoughts be put to rest – and yet he found himself feeling reluctant to make a promise like that.  Iris's smile kept flashing in his mind, and for some odd reason, the thought of letting that go felt almost unbearable.  It seemed cruel and unfair for anyone to ask him to give that up.

“Barry?” Bette called out to him, tearing Barry away from a thought that was veering dangerously close to something resembling an epiphany.

“Huh?” he mumbled, shaking his head to rid himself of that thought.

The red-haired beauty smiled.  “Can you promise that you will give this whole Iris-thing up?” she asked him pleadingly.

He fought back the nauseated feeling building up in his stomach as and nodded with a forced smile.  “Of course, Bette.”  His tone was lifeless, the words feeling like sawdust on his tongue.  “I just wanted to get to know her better, but I don't want anyone to get the wrong idea, so it's done.  No big deal.”

“You promise?” she pushed.

“I promise.”

Barry ignored the happy smile that crossed Bette's lips as he picked up his plate and his beer and made his way out to the living room.  His body felt like it was running on autopilot as he sat down in front of the TV that had the game playing.  His eyes became fixed on the screen, but he failed to really take in anything that was taking place.  One thought kept repeating over and over in his head, taking precedence over everything else.

_I think I made a mistake._

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	2. Iris (And Kinda Bette)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry and Iris make some headway because Barry is a hopeless fanboy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I took some liberties with the story, concerning Iris's age difference with Wally, and also I took liberties with some other aspects, which you will most likely read when/if you read the chapter.

“Are you sure that everything is all right? It's not a big deal to catch a flight out to Coast City if you need me.”

Iris West paced back and forth across her room with her phone pressed to her ear and the fingers of her free hand drumming anxiously against her thigh as she chewed nervously on her bottom lip. Ever since she had gotten the call from her brother, Wally, telling her that he was sick with pneumonia, her nerves had been frayed and raw.

“Iris, I'm _fiiiine_ ,” her brother moaned weakly on the other side of the phone. The amount of hoarse coughing that followed and the fact that his voice sounded like his throat was lined with sandpaper belied his words, putting Iris even more on edge.

“That's it, I'm going to book the next flight out. You sound horrible!” she cried out, already kneeling down next to her bed to pull out her suitcase. “I can be there by tomorrow morning. I'll get a taxi to drive me from the airport, and then I'll just work on the final chapters of my book while I'm-”

“No, you're not going to come here, Iris,” her brother stated sternly, a tone he rarely ever used with her, given the fact that he was three years her junior and was usually the one that was being reprimanded by her. “This stupid sickness isn't going to kill me – at least not before Linda does – and you have the book to finish, which should be your main priority right now. If you come, you won't get any work done because you'll be busy doting on me.”

Iris shook her head, forgetting that Wally couldn't see her. “The book can wait. I'm probably not going to be able to focus, anyway, knowing that you're sick and miserable.”

“I'm not miserable,” Wally protested gently. “Even though I may feel like shit, I have Linda here with me, and-”

The other line suddenly became garbled with what sounded like a scuffle, which made Iris eyes widen in alarm.

“Wally?” Iris called out, her voice tinged with fear. “Wally, what's going on?”

 _“Really, Lin?_ ” she heard Wally's muffled voice call out exasperatedly before his wife's voice sounded clearly into the phone.

“Iris?” Linda Park-West's voice called out to her. “Iris are you there?”

Iris released a sigh of relief as she pushed her glasses that had fallen in the midst of her reaching under her bed for her suitcase back onto the bridge of her nose. “You scared me, Lin. What happened?”

“I was just smacking your brother for calling you and telling you about being sick,” Linda replied with a small huff. “I told him that telling you would only make you worried sick and yet he still did it! I married a buffoon.”

Despite the tenseness she had felt as she had worried for her brother, Iris found herself smiling and closed her eyes as she allowed her frayed nerves to calm. “He's just used to me always taking care of him, Lin.”

“Well, he's a grown-ass man, now, and I refuse to wait on him hand and foot. And I most definitely am not going to allow you to put your life on hold to do it for him, either, so he's just going to have to deal.”

Iris giggled lightly. As much as she was accustomed to babying her little brother, she was glad that he had Linda in his life now to keep him in line. If there was one woman she could entrust the happiness of her brother to, it was Linda Park – the girl that had been her brother's first and only love since he was sixteen-years-old.

“Are you sure you won't need any help with him, Lin?”

“He's going to be fine, Iris. It's _me_ who's most likely going to go crazy first.”

Releasing a sigh, Iris forced herself to trust her sister-in-law's judgment. “Just keep me informed if anything happens, okay?”

“Of course,” Linda agreed readily. “You just worry about enjoying a Wally-free life, and I'll handle him.”

“That's easier said than done,” Iris murmured but it was loud enough for Linda to hear because she chuckled lightly.

“I'll take care of him, so don't worry; in fact, he should be the very last thing on your mind. You should take a break from writing and really get out and have some fun, Iris. You, more than anyone, deserve that.”

Iris was used to people telling her that whenever they got the chance, and frankly, she was tired of hearing it. The only thing that prevented her from screaming that going out just wasn't her thing was the fact that she knew, deep down, Linda and everyone else were right.

“I'll try, but I can't really make any promises. I should actually probably get back to writing since my deadline is at the end of the month and my editor is already breathing down my neck,” she said, hoping that she had bypassed another lecture. “I still need a little more info on the science stuff for the book, so tell Wally to call me when he's feeling a little better, okay?”

She heard Linda sigh heavily before she replied back in defeat. “Will do, Iris. Just promise you'll take a break every now and then, okay? We love you.”

Iris suddenly felt a little guilty for trying to brush off her sister-in-law, but forced that feeling down. “Love you guys, too. Bye.”

She ended the call and brought the phone to her chest as she started chewing on her bottom lip once more. As much as she trusted Linda to know her brother's condition, there were still lingering feelings of worry that plagued her thoughts. It was second nature for her to worry about him since she had been doing it for over a decade. He was her baby brother, after all, and the only family she had left, and there was always that lingering fear that she would lose him and be completely alone in the world. Tendrils of repressed memories that she wanted to forget started pushing at her mind, but she pushed them back with thoughts of her book and getting it done. Work was always something she could rely on to fight the bad feelings that threatened to drown her every time she let her guard down.

Looking around her room, Iris searched for her laptop, only remembering then that she had left it in the living room where she had been working before Wally had called. She normally never worked outside of her room, but Bette had wanted to watch her favorite show on the big TV, and she had wanted Iris to watch with her, so she had persuaded - which was more like guilted - Iris to work out in the living room with her while she, Bette, watched TV. Needless to say, Iris had been happy to take Wally's call in her room just to escape listening to Bette's drama-ridden television obsessions.

Iris walked out into the living with a sigh as she removed her glasses to clean the smudge on the lense from when her glasses had fallen down her nose. She used the hem of her sweatshirt, ignoring the screaming voice inside her head that sounded oddly like her optometrist telling her that she was scratching her lenses like that, to clean them. The world became a blur as she slowly made her way toward the couch where she had left her best friend.

“Wally, apparently, has pneumonia, and regardless of how badly my motherly instincts are telling me to fly out to take care of him, both he and Linda are certain they can take care of it themselves, which means that I'm staying here and writing,” she updated Bette as she flopped down on the couch. She placed her glasses back on her nose and huffed smugly. “You must be so proud of me for-”

The words died on her lips when she actually looked through her freshly cleaned lenses to find that it wasn't Bette on the couch with her but her _other_ roommate, who was looking at her with deer-caught-in-headlight eyes.

Things between Iris and Barry were, for lack of a better word, weird. They had been from the moment she had first laid eyes on him after Bette caught him peeping into her room, and over the past two months, the awkwardness between them only seemed to get worse. Iris blamed a lot of it on herself due to how withdrawn and shy she was with him, but over the past month, a lot of the weirdness was contributed by him.

The first time she had seen Barry, Iris had thought he was attractive, if a little on the scrawny side, but she had been certain that she was not going to like him. The fact that he had tried peeping at her through her door hadn't really done him any favors, but after her encounter with him in the kitchen, she found that he was likable enough. He just had a tendency to unnerve her with his incessant staring.

Iris wasn't sure if Barry was even aware of how much he stared at her. He wasn't necessarily subtle about it because every time she and he were in the same room, she always seemed to feel his eyes lingering on her from wherever he was. A part of her questioned whether he was aware that he was really doing it or if it was just her paranoia getting to her, but after Bette's little party, her suspicions were confirmed from Bette, herself, and even some of their friends. Lisa wasn't necessarily Iris's favorite person, nor was she particularly trustworthy, but Tony was, and he had been adamant that Barry had some kind of crush on Iris based on how he seemed to follow her throughout the night. Iris, herself, had felt his gaze on her quite a bit throughout that night, but she had avoided it and him adamantly because actually acknowledging him would mean having to acknowledge how his staring made her feel. It was unnerving to Iris because for some strange reason, it made her feel something that had never quite brought her much happiness before. It made her feel desirable.

Despite her general lack of trying, Iris knew that she was somewhat gifted in the looks department. She wasn't conceited about those looks, however, because she never really considered beauty a gift. Going through some of the things she did, growing up, her looks had been something of a hindrance, even a curse. Under different circumstances, she would have embraced the beauty she had been given, but because she had been forced to hide it during a particularly dark part of her life for the sake of her sanity and her safety, she had grown accustomed to hiding it and shying away from people who were drawn to her because of it.

There had been only a handful of men in Iris's past that loved her, whom she loved back. _None_ of those men had been romantic partners. All of them had either been people from her family or people who understood how guarded she was and still worked to earn her friendship and her trust. Those who had looked at her with romance or lust in their eyes were generally never welcomed warmly be her, due to the actions of one person in particular who had left that part of her cold and lifeless. So when Iris felt Barry's gaze on her and she felt the foreign stirrings in the pit of her stomach from those gazes, her first response to said stirrings was to tamp it down and run as far away from it as she could. If she could avoid it – avoid _him –_ she felt that she would be able to keep the walls around herself from collapsing and stay comfortably in her safe zone.

Her attempts at avoiding Barry didn't really seem to help the situation, but then all of a sudden, out of the blue, it had all stopped. His eyes no longer followed her and when he looked at her, it was just a quick glance before he looked away. It was actually pretty abrupt, like a light being switched off. One night he was looking at her like she hung the moon, and the next day, he was avoiding her like she had the plague. Instead of her always the the one being awkward between the two of them, he became the one initiating the tension between them by walking out of the room whenever she walked in or pretending she wasn't even there when he stayed around to talk to Bette or whoever else was in the room. He even started bringing his girlfriend around more, and openly made out with her in their shared living spaces like the kitchen and living room, which only made things feel even more awkward and uncomfortable. Even Bette, who had just been a spectator to the strange interactions between them could see that he was trying to get a message across, though neither she nor Iris could decipher what that message was. It was strange, but Iris forced herself to accept it as something that was for the best. She didn't want to confront the fact that she had seemingly lost his interest or the fact that she actually cared that it was gone. So when she looked up and found Barry sitting beside her instead of Bette, she was not surprised to see the awkwardness she felt mirrored on his face.

“Uh...” Barry started off awkwardly as he rubbed the back of his head. “Bette got called into an emergency at the station. Something about some weird package showing up on someone's desk and a bomb threat being called, so she said to tell you that she probably won't be back for a few hours.”

Iris found herself nodding in acceptance. “Oh,” she replied quietly. “I guess that means I don't have to keep watching her terrible shows, then.”

She forced a chuckle out of her lips to lighten the thick tension in the room, but the sound of it felt off to her ears. Barry reciprocated with an equally forced laugh of is own, which only made Iris want to cringe even more. It was strange how utterly awkward she always felt around him. So figuring that it was best to just stop while they were behind, she picked up her laptop, which she had left open on the coffee table in her haste to take Wally's call, and started heading back to her room. She found herself stopping abruptly, startled, by Barry's voice calling after her.

“I didn't know that you wrote fanfiction.”

Iris paused, looking back at him with her brow furrowed in confusion. “Pardon?”

Barry once again rubbed at the back of his head nervously. “Um, well, I...” he paused and stared up at the ceiling, seemingly trying to pluck the words he wanted to say out of the air. “Your computer was open, and I happened to see what you were working on and I couldn't help reading some of your work and I saw you writing about The Flash.”

Iris snapped her laptop shut and hugged it to her chest, feeling like she needed to protect it from his further perusal. A part of her was offended; in fact it wasn't really a part but all of her that was offended that he had read her work without her permission, but there was a burning question on the tip of her tongue that she wanted to ask before she blew up.

“You read The Flash?”

Barry scoffed, as though questioning him on the subject was ludicrous, but then he grinned excitedly. “I have all five books and all three graphic novels,” he stated proudly. “I've been in love with the series ever since I found the first book in college. I actually wrote a fanfiction or two about the series, but I realized that I was never really much of a writer. Still, I'm pretty sure I'm J. W. Rudolph's biggest fan!” He finished his little rant with a smug shrug that made Iris giggle despite her initial anger. He seemed so proud of the information he had just imparted even though she was sure most people would call him a nerd for owning up to it. Never would she have ever imagined that someone with Barry's reputation of being a player could be such a huge science fiction geek.

Iris found herself feeling all of the anger and outrage she had felt toward him suddenly fade away as she witnessed the excitement that played across his features as he talked about The Flash. Even behind the walls she built around herself, she found his enthusiasm adorable.

“So… you write fanfiction?” Barry inquired further when she failed to respond to his rant at being a Flash fanboy. “Bette told me you were a writer, but she didn't tell me that you moonlighted on the fandom front. From what I read, your work is pretty stellar. Your voicing of the characters is incredibly spot on.”

Iris knew that there was a good possibility that she was making a mistake in what she was about to reveal to him, but she could not help but feel a sense of euphoria that someone in her life, other than her publisher and Wally, actually enjoyed her work. She returned to the couch and tentatively reclaimed her previous position beside him, which surprised her as much as it surprised Barry, whose surprise was made evident by how wide his eyes grew at her willingly seating herself beside him.

“Well, I would kinda hope their voices would be spot on,” she replied with a somewhat confident yet nonchalant air as a grin began etching its way across her face, “since I'm the one who created them.”

If Barry's eyes could have gotten any bigger, they would have popped right out of his head. His facial features became contorted as confusion and disbelief warred with each other on his face.  For a moment he just stared at her, struggling to process what she had just told him. Iris almost felt regret at dropping such a huge bomb on him, but the entire thing was just too entertaining.

“How-wha-who-huh?”

Iris felt herself feeling even more tickled by his bafflement. She knew that he was still trying to wrap his head around everything, so she simply waited patiently for him to get a grasp on at least one of the million questions that appeared to be running through his head. After a moment, one question seemed to finally win out in the end.

“ _You're_ J. W. Rudolph?” he questioned, both doubt and hope coloring his tone.

“Yes,” she confirmed. “But that's just a pseudonym – something my publisher suggested I use in order to appease the main demographic of The Flash, which consists of mostly of teenage-to-young adult males.”

Barry still looked completely dumbfounded by the bomb Iris had dropped on top of him even with her explanation, so Iris chose to fill the spaces while patiently waiting for him to accept her revelation.

“J. W. Rudolph is a name I made up that consists of all the names of the people I've loved the most in my life. I always felt that if I couldn't put my own name on my books then at least my family's names could be displayed on them instead.” She knew she was revealing a lot of personal information about herself in a fairly abrupt manner, but no one outside of herself and Wally knew the story of her pseudonym, which was why when she started, she couldn't really stop. “J is for Joseph, which was my dad's name; W is for Wallace, my baby brother's name; and Rudolph is Wally's middle name, but it was actually my mother's maiden name first, which means all three of the Wests are present, crushed into one name.”

“Wow...” Barry murmured, his brain seemingly back in working order once more. “That's… Oh my _God,_ I can't believe I've shared an apartment with my freaking idol for the past two months and didn't even know it!”

Beaming wide, Iris offered her hand to him. “Maybe another introduction is in order,” she offered teasingly, something that she suddenly found easy to be in the current moment.  The walls she always kept around herself were momentarily leveled.

Barry accepted her offered hand and began to shake it eagerly, making Iris fear that he was going to shake her arm right out of it's socket. His eyes peered into hers with open adulation.

“I am the _biggest_ fan of your work, and I'm just finding it extremely surreal that I'm looking into the face of the person who created the most amazing character in all of creation,” he declared, his hand unwittingly still shaking hers.

“I always pictured J.W. Rudolph as some old, white-haired guy who liked his privacy since he never went to conventions or did any book tours for his books,” he went on as well as his shaking of Iris's hand. “He's always been this mysterious figure, but I never expected… _Wow_!”

Iris had little to no time to respond before she noticed his eyebrows raise and his eyes widen like he had just received a new revelation.

“Wait… you said your brother's name is Wallace?” he questioned, and then went on before Iris could even respond. “ _Wallace_ as in _Wally Weston_? You named the Flash after your brother?”

Iris giggled at the look of pure awe that was currently etched on his face. She almost felt it her duty to slowly ease him out of the current befuddled state he was in.

“Yeah, Wally Weston is named after my Wally,” she affirmed proudly. “It was only fitting that the character be named after my brother since the Flash started out as a bedtime story that I made up to get my Wally to sleep when we were younger.

“He was always so restless, especially at night, but the family we lived with didn't let us get up and move around the house, so I had to think of ways to get Wally to stay in bed. He was so fascinated with speed and science, even back then, so I made up this story of a young boy who, by sheer twist of fate, ended up with the powers to run faster than the eye could see. He would battle villains who had powers that were almost just as impossible as his, but I would always make him victorious in the end, which was usually around the time that Wally would finally fall asleep.”

As she recanted her story, Iris started feeling a mixture of nostalgia and sadness coursing through her veins. She prayed that the latter emotion was not evident on her face as she tried to remain cheerful in light of how dark the situation had truly been. There was no way she was going to reveal how hard it had been on her to think of new stories to appease Wally while constantly worrying about their future and the possibility that they would be separated. There was most definitely no way she planned on telling Barry about how afraid she was that her stories would fail and that Wally would have a tantrum, which would lead to him being taken to a new home, away from her. Those particular aspects in the conception of the story Barry adored were things that she felt were better left unsaid.

“I wrote the first book while I was taking night classes at Keystone Community College. I was working two jobs trying to support Wally and me, and one of those jobs was at a diner that was frequented by one of the kindest, most generous men on the face of the earth. He saw how I was always writing on my breaks, so he asked to read my writing, and from there, my life was changed forever. He hooked me up with a friend who worked for a publishing company and The Flash was born. The rest is history.”

“That is _so_ _amazing_ ,” Barry whispered, his voice filled with awe as he continued to stare at her with open admiration. It was still a bit unnerving for Iris to be on the receiving end of it, but she was a little more comfortable knowing that his stare was rooted in adulation of her work rather than admiration of her physical attributes. “Your story s a lot more captivating than the ones that are posted all over The Flash official fansite.”

“Yeah, well, I doubt my books would have been quite as successful as they are now if people knew that some teenaged girl, with little science knowledge to boot, created their beloved favorites,” Iris replied with a shrug of her shoulders. “I've come to accept that I won't ever publicly receive the accolades of writing this series, and I've learned to live with it. At the end of the day, I just know that the characters and the stories belong to me and no one can take that away from me.”

Barry nodded his head thoughtfully. “Reading what you have now, I actually find it hard to believe that you only have a little knowledge of science because you seem to have a firm grasp on some of the more hardcore science theories in your writing.”

Iris shrugged demurely. “Well, I've picked up on a few things throughout the years, but I actually get a lot of help on all the science-y material from Wally, and also from a dear friend of mine, Jay Garrick, who is actually the person I based Wally's mentor James Garret on,” she explained, still happy to be discussing the details of her work with someone who actually cared about it. She was so eager to continue that she failed to notice Barry's eyes becoming bugged again at her namedropping. “He was the same guy at the diner who changed my life. He's a brilliant physics professor at CCU, and he's always willing to help, so I usually just tell him or Wally what kind of powers I want my meta-humans to have, and then they usually come up with the science theories between themselves and get back to me on how to portray it in the book.”

Barry bent over his thighs and placed his hands over his mouth as he slowly shook his head. “Not only do you know _Jay freaking Garrick_ , who happens to be one of my idols, but you are also the author of my favorite series. I feel like I've just walked into the Twilight Zone or something,” Barry remarked under his breath.

Iris sighed. “Well, if it makes me appear more human to you, I'm actually at an impasse with my current writing because I'm getting to the part where Wally is about to face off against Zoom for the second time, and I need to accurately describe a way in which Wally will be capable of bypassing Zoom's time manipulation in order to defeat him. My brother suggested having Zoom beat Wally up by vibrating his arm through Wally's chest only for Wally to use his super speed and close proximity to punch Zoom with a powerful super sonic punch… or something along those lines. He was suppose to give me more details about that and the science behind it, but he-”

“Has pneumonia,” Barry finished for her, referencing the information she had unwittingly given him when she thought he was Bette.

Iris nodded and sighed as she reclined against the back of the couch. “I just hope he gets better soon because my editor is already breathing down my neck, and the deadline to turn in my last draft is at the end of the month. I would call Jay, but he's in Stockholm with Joan, receiving a Pulitzer, and I don't want to bug him with something like this.”

A silence fell between them after that, and oddly enough, Iris felt that it was far from the usual awkward or tense silence that had been shared between them over the last two months. It was strange to think that she had actually shared a nice conversation with Barry without feeling that usual need to pull back and put distance between them; in fact, talking to him had made her feel something that she had rarely felt with anyone outside of her brother and her closest friends. _Content_ _ment_ _._

“You know,” he said, ending the silence and pulling Iris away from her silent contemplations. “I actually think that I have a grasp on what your brother was suggesting... If you wanted… I would be happy to explain it and give you _my_ input on the science behind it.” He looked both eager and afraid as he waited for her response.

Iris felt her eyebrows raise at the suggestion. She had never trusted anyone with her work outside of Wally, Jay, her editor, and the publishers, so to have someone else's thoughts and theories being displayed in her work was a little nerve-wracking. Barry seemed to sense her reluctance in accepting his offer.

“I double-majored in Physics and Chemistry in college, and I graduated with honors,” he stated quickly, offering up his credentials. “I am also a huge fan of the series, so I would _never_ give you any information that would compromise the integrity of your work or make my fellow fans cringe because of inaccuracies.”

She fixed him with her best cool stare. “What would you ask in return for your contribution?” she questioned warily. She didn't mind giving him money because she had plenty of that, now, though that had not always been the case in the past. What she feared he would ask for was a something along the lines of co-authorship since his contribution could be vital to the work itself. It just felt wrong to have anyone else's name on her creation.

Barry placed his hand on his chin thoughtfully. “What do your brother and Jay usually ask for?” he then answered with a question of his own.

Iris shrugged. “They accept having their names in the acknowledgments and me making them my famous homemade macaroni and cheese as payment for every book,” Iris answered quietly, knowing how silly such a payment was for providing important details for her work. Jay and Wally, however, knew how precious the series was to her, and never once asked for anything more even though, for them, she would give anything.

“That sounds like a pretty fair exchange,” Barry remarked as a wide grin played across his lips. “I would be happy to take the same deal.”

Iris arched her brow at him with a quizzical tilt of her head. “Seriously?”

“What?” he responded nonchalantly. “I happen to be a big fan of macaroni and cheese.”

Despite her wariness at his ready offer to assist, Iris accepted it and immediately ran to her room to retrieve a notepad on which she could take notes on Barry's scientific explanation of Wally's supersonic punch. She listened intently as he explained to her the basic physics principles she needed to know – his answers and explanations always given with patience. Barry was always ready to break down things for her, and he made sure to use terminology that she could use in her own descriptive writings in the book. All throughout the discussion, Iris found herself completely immersed in everything he said, her eyes rarely straying from his face that was filled with so much excitement toward the subject matter. She found his enthusiasm for science just as adorable as his enthusiasm for her books.

He was just finishing explaining to her how Wally's punch would be able to disarm and destroy Zoom when the sound of the apartment door opening forced them out of the little bubble they had created around themselves. Bette walked in, looking exhausted, only to pause when she walked into the living room to find Iris and Barry seated together on the couch, completely surrounded by papers. She looked between the two of them, her brow furrowed warily at how close they were sitting next to one another.

“Oh, Bette!” Iris practically squeaked out. “Did everything go okay with the call? You weren't really gone that long.”

Bette frowned. “What do you mean? I've been gone for three hours!”

Both Iris and Barry exchanged wide-eyed looks with one another before returning their gazes to Bette. “I guess we must have lost track of time,” Iris replied, at least having the decency to look bashful.

“Doing what, exactly?” Bette inquired, her eyes zeroing back in on how close the two were seated next to one another.

Iris was the one who explained everything with Barry nodding his head eagerly in agreement behind her. Bette appeared to be paying only half of her attention to Iris's response as her main focus seemed to be on the small distance between her two roommates. Their interactions were comfortable, practically in sync, which was such a huge contrast from the hot mess that had been their strange behavior toward one another over the last few weeks.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Bette muttered as she waved them off before heading back to her room. “I don't really care. You guys have fun.”

As soon as she disappeared, Iris turned her eyes back to Barry, smiling at him bashfully. “I think that's my cue to call it a night,” she said just before a large yawn escaped her lips.

Barry found himself yawning as well as he gazed down at his watch. He frowned when he saw that it was nearly midnight. “I think you're right.”

“Thanks for doing this, Bar'. This really helps a lot,” Iris remarked as she busied herself collecting all the papers and notes she had written throughout their discussion. She was so busy putting everything back in order that she failed to notice Barry staring at her with his brow furrowed and his lips twitched up in a smug smirk. It wasn't until she was standing up straight that she found him still looking at her with that same expression on his face.

“'Bar'?” he repeated her name for him with curiosity and mirth in his voice.

Iris felt her cheeks flood with warmth as she realized what she had said. “Sorry, it just kinda-”

“I like it,” Barry stated firmly, cutting off her apology, with his emerald eyes alight with laughter that crinkled the corner of his eyes and made his already boyish face appear even younger. “But only you can call me that. I don't want people thinking that I'm some kind of grizzly or anything,” he added lightly.

That familiar feeling of warmth returned to Iris's stomach, setting off the butterflies in the pit of her belly. She felt the familiar urge to run, once more, but this time, Iris chose to fight it. Their interactions were harmless, and she actually felt a connection with him. He also had a girlfriend, so she let herself believe that there wasn't any harm in getting to know him better. To her, he had become safe.

“Well, thanks again for everything, _Bar_ ',” she said quietly, allowing the warmth that she felt to be reflected in her tone.

Barry nodded as his smirk began to fade, though his eyes remained glued to hers. “It was definitely my pleasure, _Iris._ ”

The way her name slid off his tongue made Iris feel like her heart was going to escape from her chest. It sounded like a prayer coming from his lips – an offering to all the higher beings in the universe. On his lips, her name sounded precious.

Unable to quite handle the avalanche of emotion she was falling under, Iris forced herself to nod back with a small wave of her hand before making a hasty retreat to her room with all the papers and her laptop clutched in her arms. As soon as she closed the door, she closed her eyes and rested her back against it, silently willing her heart to stop pounding so hard inside of her chest. She tried to tell herself that it was nothing – that she had made a big deal out of something small – even as she found herself listening to the sound of his footsteps making his way past her door to his own room. When she heard them pause right outside her door, she held her breath. It was only when she heard him continue on toward his room and heard the sound of his door closing behind him that she finally exhaled.

Iris tried to tell herself that she wasn't disappointed that he hadn't knocked, even as a stronger voice told her that she was being silly for even thinking such a thought. One thing she knew for certain of was that things suddenly felt different – _brighter._

 

* * *

 

Iris's feelings were confirmed the next day when she found herself being lured into the kitchen by the alluring aroma of brownies being baked. She walked in just in time to see Bette smacking Barry's hand away from the steaming pan of brownies that she had just removed from the oven, making Iris laugh lightly at the look of hurt that crossed the latter's face. Her laughter drew both of her roommate's gazes to her, and both of them greeted her with smiles of their own. Iris was surprised at how light Barry's smile, in particular, made her feel.

“What's going on in here?” she asked them as she took a seat at the table.

“I made you brownies to apologize for ditching you last night,” Bette said gently as she cut the pan of brownies into squares and placed two of the largest pieces on a plate. “Mr. Side-buster, here,” she said, nudging Barry in the ribs with her elbow just as he was reaching for a square, “wanted to nab them before you got here. He's not aware that you are not above dismembering people when it comes to your sweet tooth.”

Iris was only half listening as her eyes became fixated on the brownies on the plate. She pulled it to her and picked up the warm chocolatey dessert with her fingers, completely ignoring the fork that was right at her fingertips. She bit into chocolate dessert and moaned as her teeth sunk into the crispy flesh and the fudge-y flavor landed on her already salivating tongue. Everything but the decadent sweetness on her taste buds faded away as she devoured the treat in four more bites and then immediately started in on the other right after.

“Wow… you really weren't kidding,” Barry commented from somewhere in Iris's periphery. “She _really_ loves brownies.”

“Oh, she's beyond in love with them,” Bette answered back as she handed Barry a single square. “She's _obsessed_.”

Iris had just completed the second brownie and was eying the pan again when her brain finally managed to process that her two roommates were talking about her. She had the decency to be somewhat bashful about her current display, but that did little to stop her from reaching out and nabbing another square.

“Your brownies are the absolute best, Bette,” she mumbled around a mouthful of brownie. “But you can't tell Linda I told you that because she thinks hers are the best, but they're really just a close second to yours.”

“I bet you tell her the exact same thing,” Bette refuted her with a roll of her eyes.

Iris shrugged. “True, but that's because first and second place are interchangeable between the two of you, based on who it is that's making me brownies.”

She patted her belly after finishing the fourth brownie and grinned contently at her two roommates, who were both looking at her with a mixture of disbelief and awe. Barry handed her a napkin and pointed at his own chin when she looked at him and then the napkin he had placed in her hand quizzically. She rubbed at her chin, feeling nothing, which only earned an eye roll from Barry who grabbed the napkin from her hand and used it to wipe at the opposite side of her chin where a glob of chocolate was smudged. Iris sat still while he worked and merely blushed demurely when he finished and discarded the napkin.

“Well, it looks like I didn't really need to apologize since the two of you seemed to have found a way to entertain yourselves last night,” Bette remarked coolly, her brows raised at the ease in which they interacted with one another. Iris was never a fan of being touched, and yet she had not shied away from Barry's ministrations at all.

Barry and Iris exchanged another look between them, both seeming to feel a sense of comfort in their new interactions.

“I guess your nerdiness actually rubbed off on Iris,” Bette added, her eyes now narrowing at the contentment on both of their faces. It was almost alarming that they could actually look at one another without either one or the other booking it in the opposite direction. A part of her felt wary at how much their interactions had changed just after one night, but another part knew that what was happening was something that was bound to happen no matter how hard she tried to make it not. They always seemed drawn together no matter how much they both resisted it, especially on Iris's part. Seeing her beam wide at Barry just confirmed that what they had been fighting was something that needed to happen. Bette just hoped the neither of them would be hurt in the end.

 

* * *

 

Throughout the next two weeks, Barry and Iris were almost always together whenever they were at the apartment at the same time. It was almost like they were making up for all the lost time they had wasted in being awkward with each other. Iris made it a point to work out in the living room more often, and Barry would immediately camp out next to her as soon as he would get in from work, and the two would end up spending hours talking about the book and discussing the direction in which Iris was planning on going with Wally's character. Barry would try to weasel out information on how she planned on ending the series, and Iris would deflect while asking about the supposed Flash fanfiction he had written before.

Their being together became such a commonplace thing that Bette no longer even bothered to question them on what they were doing when she returned from work and saw them together. She became used to them greeting her briefly before turning their attention back to one another and becoming engrossed in their own little world where everything else faded away. She almost found herself believing that they were the ones who had grown up being best friends rather than she and Iris. It was almost eerie how well they seemed to fit together.

On the night that Iris finished the book, she and Bette decided that they would celebrate by having a girls' night in. It was a Friday night, but neither felt guilty staying in due to Iris never really liking to go out and Bette not minding since Tony was going to be working a late shift at the factory. They would have the whole apartment to themselves since Barry had a date with Patty at an art exhibit that he had been complaining about all week. The girls had a night full of vegging out and drinking themselves into happy oblivion ahead of them, and they couldn't wait for it to start.

Bette was busy taking a pan of brownies out of the oven and Iris was setting up the snacks and drinks in the living room when Barry walked out into the living room, decked out in his tuxedo for the event. The suit was a little big, but he looked dapper save for the ends of what was suppose to be a bow tie resting in his hands and his brow furrowed in consternation and frustration. Iris took one look at his face and immediately slapped a hand over her mouth to hide her grin and stifle the giggle that escaped her lips at how defeated he looked.

“Come here,” she finally called out to him after she was able to control herself. She beckoned him to her with outstretched arms and Barry reluctantly succumbed to her summons, though he still feigned anger at her laughing at him. That particular charade faded immediately as he found himself smirking at her smugly when she was forced to stand up on the couch in order to be eye level with him.

“You're lucky that Wally went through a bow tie phase in high school,” Iris commented teasingly as she draped the tie around his neck. “He refused to wear regular ties when we would go to church, so I had to buy him bow ties and also learn how to tie them for him since he couldn't do it himself.”

“Remind me to thank him,” Barry muttered, his demeanor noticeably brighter as he watched Iris's brow furrow in deep concentration on tying the knot.

Iris scrunched her nose in the process of completing the knot, which caused her large frames to drop down her nose. They began to fall off, only for Barry's fingers to suddenly snatch them just as they fell from her nose.

“Thanks,” Iris commented as she finished with the bow tie and gently brushed her fingers across it, making sure that it looked pristine. She then laughed lightly as Barry placed her glasses back on her face instead of just handing them back to her. His nimble fingers were gentle as they pushed the frames back onto the bridge of her nose, making Iris smile even wider as she gazed up into his eyes while scrunching her nose at him happily. “That was some fast moving, Bar'. _Flash_ fast, even.”

“Who knows? Maybe you can write a character based off of me into your next book,” he offered coyly as he wriggled his eyebrows suggestively.

They both shared another chuckle, but a moment later, as their laughter began to die, down, Barry released another sigh and rubbed at the back of his neck wearily.

“I kinda wish I were the Flash, then I could speed right out of the exhibit or find some villain to fight that would be the perfect excuse not to go to this stiff thing,” he grumbled sullenly. “She knows I hate art, and yet she still insisted on dragging me to an art exhibit.”

Iris gave him her best sympathetic smile as she ran her hands along his shoulders, smoothing out the wrinkles in his suit. She started picking at the small bits of lint that were on his breast pocket as she spoke softly to him. “All you need to remember is that going to this thing isn't really a sacrifice because any time that you get to spend with the person you care about most is always a gift. All the gripes you may feel in this suit will pale in comparison to looking up and seeing her with her eyes solely focused on you. You'll feel like the luckiest guy in the room when she smiles at you and yet you'll still manage to feel even luckier when you find that you're the only one who gets to hold and touch her out of everyone else there. All of this frustration and irritation that you're feeling now will be a distant memory by the end of the night.”

She finished primping him and gazed up into his face with a victorious grin on her lips as she admired her handiwork. It did not stay long, however, because when she looked up, she found Barry's eyes boring down at her unrelentingly. There was something in that gaze that made her stomach feel like she had just swallowed a whole bowling ball

“What?” she asked him gently, forcing the word past the lump that had started to build up in her throat.

“You really don't even realize it, do you?” he replied with a question of his own, his eyes still gazing almost yearningly into hers.

Iris frowned. “Realize what?”

Barry sighed and shook his head as he slowly pulled away from her. “It's nothing,” he stated solemnly. “Just a thought.”

She could sense that there was more to it, but she was weary of pushing for further explanation. Instead, she forced a sigh from her lips and folded her arms across her chest.

“Well, you are officially ready, and you do look _dashing_ , if I do say so myself, sir,” she declared with her best attempt at a British accent. Based on the chuckle that came from Barry, she knew it was an abysmal attempt.

“Then, I guess I better get going. Patty will be waiting for me.” The way in which he spoke the words and the way his emerald eyes lingered her face made it appear as though he was anything but eager to leave. Iris could almost swear that his eyes were was silently asking her to say something to him, though she wasn't quite sure what. Did he want her to ask him to stay? Why would she ever do that? And why would he ever give her that power? More importantly, why was she actually tempted to ask him to not go? To just stay with her instead?

“Iris, the brownies are done. I'm ready for my praise before you go to town on them.”

Both Iris and Barry reluctantly tore their gazes from one another in order to look at Bette who was standing in the doorway of the kitchen with a plate of fresh brownies in her hands. Iris forced another smile onto her face, hoping that she could return to her previous cheerful demeanor while Barry released yet another heavy sigh.

“Did I miss something?” Bette questioned them, her eyes darting from one to the other of her roommates, most likely sensing that she had just interrupted something.

“No, I was just heading out,” Barry remarked, avoiding Iris's penetrating stare as he turned and headed for the door. “Wish me luck,” he called to both of them over his shoulder.

“Good luck! You'll probably need it!” Bette shouted after him, just before the front door closed behind him.

Iris remained silent as she gazed at the door longingly, finding herself wishing that it would open again, and he would walk back in. When the door remained closed, she pushed her glasses firmer on the bridge of her nose and turned away with her chest heavy and her body feeling oddly drained.

“Okay, what in the _hell_ is going on between you and Barry?”

Iris had just reached the couch only to find Bette already seated there with her blue eyes narrowed sternly at her. The plate of brownies had been placed on the coffee table, but Iris had a strong feeling that she wasn't going to be getting any of the sweet treats unless she answered Bette's question, which really wasn't anywhere near the top the list of things she wanted to do right then and there.

“What are you talking about, Bette?” she asked back drolly, hoping to evade the looming drama. “There's nothing -”

“Oh, don't you _dare_ try to pull that crap with me, Iris West! You're forgetting that I've known you since we were in the third grade, and I _know_ when you get that look in your eyes! You have a thing for Barry, and he obviously has a thing for you, too, which is why I'm puzzled as to why he's going to meet that banshee of a girlfriend of his, when he could be here with you, which is where he really wants to be!”

Seating herself on the couch, Iris picked up the remote and started the movie on the TV. “I don't know what you think you saw, but you obviously misconstrued the situation because Barry is happy with Patty, and I don't have those type of feelings for him. We're just friends.” She reached for a brownie as she stared at the title sequence beginning, only to feel a sharp rap on the back of her hand.

“Oh, no brownies for you, missy!” Bette snapped as she reached out and snatched the remote from Iris and paused the movie once more. “You're forgetting to whom you're speaking to. I can't be lied to, like Barry, and I most certainly didn't mistake the tension between the two of you when I walked in just a minute ago. I just want to know why you're refusing to acknowledge your attraction to him.”

Iris continued staring at the screen despite the picture being frozen. She did not want to face Bette because she had a feeling that if she engaged, she would end up revealing a part of herself that she wasn't prepared to face.

“ _Iris_!” Bette called out to her imploringly. “I know that you are extremely guarded when it comes to opening up yourself, and I know why you feel that way. I don't blame you for keeping yourself away from those feelings, which is why I warned Barry away earlier on when I saw that he was looking at you with _those_ eyes.”

Turning her head finally, the corner of Iris's lips turned down in a frown. “What do you mean ' _those eyes',_ and what do you mean, you warned Barry away?” she questioned with more accusation in her tone than she had intended. Bette, however, did not falter or shy away from that look.

“I'm talking about how he looks at you like a man who's seeing water after wandering the desert for a week, Iris! And yes, I _did_ warn him away. I could see that you were uncomfortable with the way he looked at you, and even though I suspected that you were uncomfortable because you kinda had a thing for him, too, I didn't think that it was good for either of you to continue on the way that you were,” she said gently, her eyes growing softer as she looked into Iris's dark brown eyes. “Warning him away didn't necessarily work because the two of you just got even more awkward with one another, but then when I walked in a couple weeks ago and actually saw the two of you talking and smiling at each other, I started to hope that the two of you were really starting to break ground.”

Iris pushed at her glasses again despite the frames being firmly perched on the bridge of her nose. “We _were_ breaking ground,” she confirmed quietly. “I came to realize that despite how different we were, we could get along, which is how we've become such good friends over such a short period of time. But that's _all_ we are, Bette. We're just friends.”

“Then, you should really tell that to your face when you look at him because everything about you lights up when you're together!” Bette cried out, not backing down. “You can keep lying to yourself, but I know you, Iris, and I know that you like him. Why are you fighting so hard against that?”

“You _know_ why, Bette!” Iris snapped back, her voice already raised. She discarded the passive skin and went on the full offensive. “You said yourself that you understood why I pushed him away, just like I've pushed away all the others that came before him. I _can't_ let him see that part of me because he's just going to walk away like all the others who weren't able to shape me into the happy, cheerful girl they all wanted me to be. I can't go through that heartache again!”

“But you also can't judge Barry on the same basis as those douche canoes that came before him, Iris! That's not fair to him, and that's not fair to _you,”_ the redhead fired back. “You also can't keep punishing yourself for what that asshole did years ago! It's not fair that _he_ gets to dictate who you open your heart to. He doesn't deserve to have that power over you!”

Iris felt herself clamming up, which was always her first reaction when it came to her past, especially that one particular part of it. “I don't want to talk about this, Bette,” she stated firmly through gritted teeth as she returned her gaze back to the TV.

What Bette knew but what few others didn't was that Iris had not always been the withdrawn, reclusive woman she was now; in fact, she was the epitome of sunshine and laughter, growing up as the apple of her dad's eye and the big sister that Wally could always look up to. She was always so helpful and kind, which was always helpful in a household being run by a single father. Things could have turned out so differently if Joe West had not been killed, but fate had decided that Joseph West would not get to live to see his daughter turn fifteen or see his son turn twelve; instead, it had decided that Joseph would be killed during a hostage situation gone wrong, and along with him, Iris's happy childhood.

The Robinsons, whom Iris and Wally usually stayed with when their dad was working late shifts, tried to take care of them after Joe's death, but they were an elderly couple who could barely take care of themselves and so Iris and Wally had ended up being sent into foster care. The social worker managed to pull some strings to make sure they stayed together, but the West children never stayed long in any home either because two children were just too difficult to manage in addition to the couples' own children or because most could not handle the fact that Wally, who did not understand why his father was never coming home again, refused to sleep or cooperate with the people who cared for them.

By the time Iris was sixteen and Wally was twelve, the social worker had run out of strings to pull and had pulled Iris aside at the last home that they were staying in, which was with a middle-aged couple with the last name of Cooper, to tell her that if she could not control Wally and make it work there, then he would most likely be sent to another home – away from her. Iris, desperate to keep the last remainders of her family together, had resorted to coaxing Wally into sleeping by telling him tales of the Flash, which worked in soothing him at night, enough to keep him out of the narrowed gaze of their current foster mother and father. For her, unfortunately, there was nothing that could keep her hidden away or invisible to Mr. Cooper's leering gaze.

Wally wasn't the only one who wished that there really was a character like Wally Weston, the Flash. Every night that Iris would tell Wally the tale of his imagined counterpart, she would silently will her creation into existence with her tales and her silent pleas. The idea of a being who embodied the impossible, who was capable of running faster than the speed of light, traveling back in time, and fighting evil was too tempting for her not to wish for, especially when the man of the house would let his touch linger longer than necessary on her shoulders or brush his fingers over her hair when no one else was looking. The Flash could never physically come to her rescue, but the mere escape that his story provided for her mind – to wander away from the darkness of her world – kept Iris sane through the two years in the hellish home that she needed to endure for the sake of keeping Wally by her side.

Bette, whom Iris had managed to stay in touch with throughout the years despite the constant moving and who was going through her own rough childhood, was the only soul that knew of what Iris was going through at the Cooper house. She was the only person who understood why Iris, who had been so happy and cheerful before, suddenly became withdrawn and reclusive in crowded rooms. She was the only one who knew of how Iris had suffered through those two years, and she had also been the one to hold Iris's hand through it all and comforted her when her pleas for Iris to tell someone went ignored because of Iris's insistence that she could bear the looks and touches for the sake of keeping her brother with her. Bette was also there when, after her eighteenth birthday, Iris finally reported Mr. Cooper to someone who would listen, and she was most importantly there when the despicable man reaped the just punishment for what he had put her poor friend through. It was horrible, however, to find out that the damage that had been done throughout the two years had changed her best friend forever.

Bette stared at Iris's profile in defeat. She knew when Iris had been pushed too far, and she knew that there was no point in pushing the issue any further because Iris had closed that wall around herself completely, which given her past was understandable. Bette just hated that the asshole who had ruined Iris's life still had a hold on her. The girl who had been all sunshine and rainbows disappeared when she had entered that house and the girl who guarded herself from everyone was born. The only person who got to see what an amazing, beautiful person that Iris really was were the people who fought tooth and nail to prove to her that they were worthy of her trust and Wally, who was usually the sole reaper of Iris's tender side. Everyone else became tainted in her best friend's eyes, including Barry whom Bette knew was perfect for her best friend.

“Just promise me that you'll think about it,” the redhead whispered pleadingly. She then nudged the plate of brownies over to Iris and pressed play on the remote, causing the picture to move again. After a few minutes, Iris reached for a brownie, and for the time being, things had seemingly gone back to a vague phase of normality. There was just no more forward progression.

Halfway through the movie, Bette's phone sounded off, snapping both women out of the trance they had fallen into while watching John Boyega run from black, furry, razor-teeth aliens on the TV. Iris's eyes remained fixed on the screen as Bette checked her phone and then placed it back onto her lap.

“Who was it?” Iris asked, still fixated on the movie.

“Oh, it was just Tony,” Bette answered as she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth.

Iris chanced a look to her best friend and caught the way the redhead kept glancing back down at her phone.

“Is he off work?”

Bette nodded. “Uh, yeah, the guy who relieves him came in early so he got off just now. He texted to see how girls' night was going.”

Rolling her eyes, Iris reached for the remote and pressed pause on the movie once more. “Go to your boyfriend, Bette,” she ordered gently.

“What are you talking about, Iris? He knows that this night is suppose to be just me and you. I can just see him tomorrow,” Bette deflected. Her eyes glanced at her phone, however, belying her previous statement. “It's fine.”

“I know that you haven't seen him all week, and I know that you miss him,” Iris gently pushed. “We've _both_ had our hangups in life, but you managed to find love with Tony. You should go to him.”

It took a few more minutes of Iris's incessant yet gentle prodding before Bette finally relented and reluctantly left Iris to go see her boyfriend. Iris ended up finishing the movie by herself, and then she cleaned up the mess that she and Bette had made, though she kept the celebratory wine bottle that she and Bette had just started drinking out as she felt the need to enjoy a glass or two more. Even with her best friend no longer there, her words still managed to linger in Iris's head, which made her a little desperate to silence it with a little – or maybe a lot of – alcohol.

With the bottle of wine in one hand a head full of heavy thoughts, Iris made her way to her room where she hoped to drain the darker memories away. She found herself pausing with her hand on the doorway as she gazed at the door leading to the room next to her own. It was already past midnight, and he was still not home, and she abhorred imagining what he could be up to at that exact moment. Flashes of the way he had looked at her earlier that night and the way his eyes had silently asked for her to say something – to possibly make the first move – kept playing over and over in her head, adding to an already burdened mind. Iris had to force it all down in order to get her brain in order enough to open her door and walk in.

Once again, she placed her back against the door as soon as she had closed it behind her. With the back of her head pressed against the wood, she closed her eyes and brought the opened wine bottle to her lips to take a large swig. She was never much of a drinker, so after a few drinks, her head began to grow fuzzy, which was actually a welcome feeling in comparison to the way her head had felt like it was about to explode before. Still, in the dark recesses, she could not help but think of Barry's eyes and feel like she should have said or done something, which only seemed to unleash Bette's words on her. She squeezed her eyes shut and allowed her legs to collapse beneath her as she pulled the bottle of wine to her chest to keep it from spilling. Inside, however, her conscience had already spilled over her defenses, and six words began to repeat on a loop in her head.

_I think I made a mistake._


	3. Shattered (Can You Put Me Back Together?)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Barry and Iris's pasts cause problems for both of them, but a small moment together provides a little solace.

The tension in the parked car could be cut with a knife. Barry, whose gaze had been fixed on the people walking past his window, cut a quick glance over his shoulder to look at his girlfriend sitting in the driver's seat. A strand of her blonde hair had fallen in front of her eyes, but she made no attempt to brush it away. Her lips were pursed in a thin line and her eyes were narrowed as they stared sullenly out the front windshield. Despite the fact that the car had been turned off for the last ten minutes, her hands remained on the steering wheel that groaned under her palms from how tightly she was squeezing it. It was clear she was furious, and that fury, as evasive as she was attempting to make it appear, was clearly aimed directly at _him_ , which was a conclusion that was confirmed when he reached out his hand to grab her right wrist, only for her to yank it out of his grasp before placing her hand back on the wheel.

“Look, I know that you're angry and upset with me, Patty. We should talk about it instead of just letting it fester.” Barry knew that he could probably have put more inflection in his voice, but the night had been a bust from the moment that he had left the apartment. More than anything, he just wanted to get things sorted out between him and Patty so he could go home and crash in his bed.

“’ _Angry’_ , _Barry_ ,” Patty snarled, enunciating his name sharply through gritted teeth, “was what I was earlier this week when you blew off our date for the second time in a two weeks. ‘ _Upset’_ was what I was when I practically had to drag you to my friend’s art exhibit just to spend some time with you. What I am right now _far_ exceeds either of those emotions!”

Wincing at the volume that her voice reached toward the end of her rant, Barry leaned back into his chair and folded his hands in his lap with the knowledge that any future attempts to touch her would undoubtedly be rebuffed.

“Look, I'm sorry that I made you so mad back at the exhibit. I didn't mean to offend your friend when I said his painting looked like it was done by a kid,” he started off and then winced when he saw her lips purse into an even thinner line. He was unintentionally making things worse, and he wasn't quite sure how he could make things better, so he figured he would try humor. “In my defense, the painting literally had stick figures on it, like the ones I used to draw when I was in elementary school. If I had known the painting was done by a grown man, I would have kept my mouth shut.” He smiled at her profile in an attempt to lighten the mood but she refused to look his way.

Patty scoffed and rolled her eyes. “If being an uncultured jackass was your only offense tonight, I could have forgiven you easily, but you _know_ that's not what I'm mad about.”

Barry scratched at the back of his head awkwardly. “Um, okay… but in my defense-”

“Enough, _'in my defense'_ , Barry!” she snapped back at him, the heat of her words wiping the playful smirk off his lips. “Do you even know how _humiliating_ it was for me to introduce you to my friends, who I've been bragging to about you to for the past three months, only for you to basically freak out in front of them when it was suggested that you and I should be a bit more committed to one another?”

“That's not fair. I _never_ said that I didn’t want to be committed. I just said that it was a little too early for you and me to be talking about moving in together since we’ve only been together three months,” Barry argued, unable to contain his own defensiveness. Her accusations, much like the ones her friends had made at the exhibit, made him feel like he was being backed into a corner. “Besides, it was your friend, _Andre_ , who brought it up, like it was his business to know where or whom I live with. I don't need people I don’t even know judging me for the choices I make in my life.”

Patty snickered bitterly. “Have you ever considered how weird it is for me to tell people that my boyfriend lives in an apartment with two other women, one of whom is his _ex-girlfriend_?” She finally raised a hand and wiped away the strand of hair from her eyes, but the execution was done with more force than needed which made the hair to fall right back in front of her face. It once again went ignored. “I can tell you, right now, that ninety-nine percent of the time, the first question that comes out of their mouths when I tell them this is: 'Aren't you nervous that your boyfriend is living with his ex-girlfriend?' And frankly, I don't really know how to respond to that question anymore.”

“How about, 'I trust my boyfriend enough to know that he would never cheat on me'?” he offered indignantly. “Because, frankly, if my girlfriend is being asked a question like that, I would really hope that she would have the decency to defend me to people who would question my honor, and I would hope that she would have my back, especially when I've done nothing to make her question my loyalty or commitment to her.”

A long silence filled the car, thickening the already tense atmosphere. Barry once again turned toward the window and folded his arms across his chest. He was tempted to just get out and end what was already quite the failure of a night, but the last thing he wanted was for the air not to be cleared between them.

“You know, nearly everyone at the precinct thought that I was crazy when news got around that you and I were seeing each other,” she said, breaking the silence. Her tone was flat, veering toward grave, like she was trying to hold back the emotions she was feeling. “Chyre actually pulled me aside and asked me if I knew what I was getting myself into.”

Barry forced himself to remain silent despite how incensed he became at the fact that she was bringing up his free-for-all past relationships again and also for bringing in her partner, Fred Chyre. It felt like a low blow, especially from someone who knew how badly he wanted to be removed from his womanizing past. Despite the plethora of angry words that came pushing to the tip of his tongue, he kept his lips closed.

“I knew what I was doing when I asked you – the handsome CSI with the sweet smile that was capable of drawing in nearly every girl in town – out on a date. You were smart, good looking, easy going, charming, not to mention a science geek like me. You had a reputation and a past, yes, but I knew deep down that if you and I could just spend time together that I could make a monogamous man out of you. So despite everyone warning me away from you, I knew who and what you were and I _still_ put my heart on the line for you.

“I’d really like to think that that risk paid off. The past three months with you have been everything I could have ever hoped for. You've been a wonderful and caring boyfriend – everything that I’ve ever wanted you to be.”

Barry raised his right hand and buried it in his already disheveled mop of auburn hair as he slowly turned his head and gazed, once more, at her profile. “If that's the case, then why are we even having this conversation?”

It was at this point that Patty finally turned her head and gazed at him with tears sparkling in her eyes. “Because I've come to see you as something more than just a boyfriend, Barry. I've come to see you as the man that I want to share a future with, and after tonight, and the past few weeks to be honest, I'm starting to realize that you and I are nowhere near being on the same page.”

Barry was set on trying to defend himself in the matter of not being on the same page as her, but his focus kept reverting to what she had said before that.

“What do you mean, 'the past few weeks’?” he asked her, his brow furrowed.

“Are you seriously asking me that?” She looked at him incredulously, her blue eyes wide and slightly crazed with anger. “You’ve practically been nonexistent for nearly a month, now!”

Barry’s could feel that his eyebrows were dangerously close to disappearing into his hairline as he balked at his girlfriend. He felt like he had been blindsided. The accusation made little to no sense.

“Where is that even coming from?” It was his turn to give her the incredulous look. “I've seen you _every day_ since you and I have started dating, _including_ every day of the past few weeks, and we’ve practically had lunch together every day. I know that I canceled a date or two _,_ but I’m pretty sure that’s a big leap to ‘ _nonexistent_.’”

Patty rolled her wet eyes toward the ceiling of the car and scoffed. “Just because you and I see each other all the time doesn't mean that you're really there. Yes, you see me at work and you smile, peck me on the lips or cheek, and eat lunch beside me, but there's no passion or heat anymore. It's like you're just going through the motions with me – just doing something to keep me drawn in and happy. But the only time that I really see any real spark of excitement in your eyes is when you are on your way to the bus to head home or when you're meeting with Bette to drive home with her. Not once in the past two weeks have you shown anything remotely close to that excitement when it comes to me. The closest I’ve gotten to getting that kind of passion from you was tonight, and that was only when you were telling my friends that you were against moving in with me despite the fact that you and I are suppose to be in a committed relationship.”

“Patty-”

“I'm not finished!” she barked, her eyes narrowing as she glared heatedly at him. “I have _adored_ every moment that I've had with you since we started dating, but I _refuse_ to be one of those jealous girlfriends who is suspicious of everything and everyone when we're not together, but lately that’s how I’ve been feeling when it comes to you. I hate feeling insecure about us, but I have this niggling suspicion that there's something or someone in that apartment that means more to you than I do, and I can't shake it no matter how much I may want to because I don't feel like things are the same with you and me.”

Barry stared at his girlfriend with a mixture of disbelief and barely reined in anger. “I have no idea where this is all coming from. First, I thought you were angry because I didn’t think it was the right time to move in together, and now you’re trying to pull this whole new reason to be mad at me by saying that I’ve been distant. Where is all of this coming from? Because three hours ago, I actually thought that we were doing pretty well in our relationship, but now I’ve come to find out that I was completely wrong.”

Patty's eyes softened as they lingered on Barry's face – the anger suddenly gone from her eyes. She gazed at him almost pleadingly as she cleared her throat.

“I never once felt threatened by the fact that you and Bette were living together, not even after I found out that she was your last serious girlfriend in college. And regardless of the fact that she's never particularly warmed up to me, I never once thought I needed to worry when it came to you and her because as close as the two of you are, I never really sensed that passionate spark between the two of you. But there, _obviously_ , had to have been something between the two of you, especially for you to want to keep her in your life even after you two broke up. You had to have cared about her, and the way she's been glowing lately, and the way you've been so eager and excited to go home every day has been noticeable to other people, too, not just me. There have even been rumors going around the precinct that there may be something… _more_ going on between the two of you again.”

Barry stared at her for a long moment, his mouth hanging open. For the life of him, he couldn't quite get himself to spit out what it was he wanted to say. He had the urge to laugh at the ludicrous accusation she had thrown at him, but he knew that would just upset her even more. He was dying to deny her accusation that there was anything romantic going on with Bette, and he would be telling the truth, but he had a feeling if he just said the first thing on his mind, he would exacerbate the contentious air between them. He said the next statement slowly, making sure to choose each word carefully.

“I do love Bette, Patty.” He saw her eyes widen and quickly followed up with further explanation. “She’s been one of my best friends for years, and there’s no way that I wouldn’t love her. The reason I can tell you that so easily is because the love I feel for her is nothing you have to worry about because it’s the kind of love I feel for all of my close friends. That was the main reason why she and I even broke up in college. It was _because_ we realized that we cared for each other more as friends than as anything else.”

Hoping to keep the channel of communication open, he reached out and gently brushed the strand of hair from her face and when she didn’t recoil from him, he cupped her cheek and gazed deeply into her blue eyes.

“You have nothing to worry about from her. Not only am I faithful to you, but Bette feels absolutely nothing romantic toward me because she is in a relationship with Tony, who she cares about more than she ever cared for me.” He could feel Patty’s entire body relax and allowed that to loosen his tongue to voice the first thing that popped into his head. “If anything that's why everyone would think she's glowing – she’s on cloud nine because she’s in love with Tony, and they’re so wrapped around each other that it’s basically expected they’ll be engaged within the next month or as soon as Tony gets up the nerve to ask her.”

As soon as the last sentence left his mouth, Barry bit his lip because he knew that he had just opened up a whole new can of worms just when he was getting the other one shut. Sure enough he looked at Patty just in time to see her eyes widen. Even before her lips parted for her to respond, he knew what she was going to say.

“Bette and Tony have only been dating a few weeks longer than us,” she remarked quietly. “You talk about them getting engaged like it’s a normal thing, and yet you pretty much freaked out when the topic of moving in together was brought up, even though we’ve been together almost as long as they have.”

Barry opened his mouth to interject, but Patty held her hand up to silence him. Instead, her eyes bore into his with the intensity of a woman looking into a crystal ball to see her own future.

“What is going on with us, Barry? Do I not make you as happy as Tony makes Bette? Do you not love me?”

The questions were just as probing as her eyes, which seemed to be searching for signs of something he wasn’t sure they would ever find with him. They were pleading for him to give her a bone, an affirmation of something that as much as he wanted to provide it for her, did not feel right to give. To say what she wanted to hear was not something he was ready for.

Barry rubbed at the back of his head as every single one of his nerves suddenly became filled with a million tiny shocks of lightning that made his entire body feel fidgety and restless. Every second that he didn't answer only seemed to make the situation even more awkward, but no matter how many times he opened his mouth to respond, nothing came out. The way that Patty’s eyes fell and the way her entire demeanor seemed to deflate made him feel like throwing himself into the massive chasm he could feel stretching between him and her, and yet he still could not speak. Even if he could say anything remotely comforting to her, he knew it would not be what she really wanted to hear.

Patty released a heavy sigh and bowed her head. She began to rub her brow as she closed her eyes in an attempt to fight the tears that were building in her eyes. “Why am I not surprised?” she murmured.

Barry squeezed his eyes shut and groaned internally. He _really_ needed this night to be over already.

 

* * *

 

“ _...And with Abra Kadabra defeated and the city safe once more, the hero returned to his home, weary but victorious, ready to prepare for a new day and the new adventures that would come with it.”_

_Iris delivered the final line of the story just before a large yawn took hold of her. She looked over to the other occupant of the double bed and huffed when she discovered that he was fast asleep and looked to have been that way for a while based on the small puddle of drool collecting on the pillow next to his open mouth. Even though making him go to sleep had been the sole purpose of her telling the story, she could not help but feel a little miffed that he had most likely missed the exciting climax that she had been putting together in her head all day. It was frustrating to have put in so much effort only for him to have fallen asleep halfway through._

_Rolling her eyes, she slowly rose from the bed in reluctant acceptance of the fact that she would be receiving no verbal accolades from the sole listener of her story. She made her way to her own bed where a small mountain of books from homework she had yet to get started on was waiting for her. Dread filled her stomach as she glanced at the digital clock on the nightstand that stood between hers and Wally’s beds and groaned when she saw that it was already past midnight. She had a decision to make: get some much-needed sleep so she could actually function throughout the day or complete her homework now so she didn’t have to worry about getting another sub-par grade that would most likely earn her another lecture from another teacher on how they expected so much more from her._

_Swiping the books off her bed and onto the floor, Iris came to the conclusion that sleep was the better – and more appealing, by far – option and that she could handle another lecture for the sake of her exhausted brain cells that were screaming for some rest and rejuvenation. She needed those cells to be ready and alert when it came to not only her day-to-day life but also watching out for Wally and making sure that he stayed out of trouble. If she allowed herself to get too exhausted, she would become sluggish and slow, which was never a good state to be in when it came to looking after a boy who did things at two speeds: fast and faster. It was unfortunate that the part of his brain that was in charge of considering the consequences of his actions tended to be slower than the rest of him, so that meant that Iris always had to be ready to intervene or clean up his messes at the drop of a hat before things got too out of hand._

_With her decision made, Iris went to her drawers and laid out her clothes for school, mentally patting herself on the back for having chosen to do her nightly ablutions before she began Wally’s Flash story. She laid her outfit out neatly on top of the drawer and, despite feeling completely depleted of all energy, trudged her way to the bedroom door where she made sure that it was shut completely but most importantly that it was locked. Even though a locked door hadn’t necessarily proven to be a flawless method of keeping out the dangers that lurked at night, especially when some monsters happened to have the right key, a locked door was still a sign that entry was discouraged to outsiders, and to an inebriated mind that was blurry and foggy, that single obstacle could be enough to turn them away. Not all the time, but some._

_Iris returned to the bed and flicked off the lamp, but she paused just before climbing under the covers as she scanned her eyes around the room. Despite the fact that Wally was still fast asleep in his bed, there was an odd niggling feeling in her stomach that something wasn’t quite right. The room was filled with silence, but it was also filled with something else: a charge in the air that made it feel thick and heavy, which in turn made her chest feel tight with every breath she took. She couldn’t quite put her finger on just what was happening until she heard a crackling break through the silence and found her eyes veering toward the far corner by Wally’s bed that was completely covered in darkness. She squinted her eyes, willing them to become adjusted to the dark, but she felt herself freeze as the crackling sounded again only to be accompanied by a flash of blue light that temporarily lit up the corner. In that blink of light, the thick air in Iris’s chest suddenly vanished from her lungs as she realized that someone was standing there, masked by those shadows, even though she was more than certain that no one had been there when she had turned the light off. More crackling sounded and suddenly the entire room was lit up as blue zig-zags of light slithered along a large, dark, manly frame. Iris did not need to see the face of the figure, which would have been impossible considering that it was concealed behind a black sinister-looking mask, to know who the man was. She was intimately aware of his identity due to the fact that he had been conjured up in her own imagination. The malevolent figure looming over her still-slumbering brother was none other than Zoom._

_She opened her mouth to scream out in fear, alarm, or pleading, but Zoom vanished from the corner faster than her eye could see and suddenly appeared in the small space between her bed and Wally’s. His arm was outstretched and dangling from his grasp was her brother whose throat was clenched like a vice in Zoom’s hand while the rest of his body hovered two feet above the ground. Wally’s eyes were wide open now, and they were bulging as he made wheezing sounds as the life was being strangled from his body. His legs began to kick as he reached up with his hands to claw at the arm keeping him suspended in the air, but Zoom’s grasp on him was firm. The dark figure wasn’t even paying attention to the boy in his hold; his eyes were focused completely on her._

_“Please!” she cried out as tears of helplessness began to slide down her cheeks. She reached her own hand out, desperate to help her brother, but her body was petrified in place by fear. “Please, don’t hurt him!”_

_Zoom said nothing as his dark eyes continued to stare at her. Silence once again fell between them for a moment that seemed to stretch on for decades. Only Wally’s struggling gurgles kept accurate time and reminded Iris that she needed to do something, fast._

_Suddenly Zoom spoke in a voice that sounded like it was filled with grinding gravel. “I will not allow any other to have your affections.”_

_Iris knew what was going to happen as soon as she heard those words, and despite her previous immobility, she threw herself across the small space between them with a scream of determination burning her throat as it escaped her lips. Her only goal was to get to Wally._

_Her hands were still a few inches away when the heart-stopping snap of bone being broken sounded loudly in her ears. She looked up just in time to see Wally’s eyes dull as his head fell at an awkward angle to the side. He was then effortlessly flung across the room where his body collided with a dull thump against the wall that made the fluids stirring in her stomach slide up her esophagus and collect in her mouth. Her brother was dead – killed by the monster standing less than a foot away from her._

_Iris collapsed awkwardly onto her knees on the floor, completely depleted of all energy. She was given no time to wallow in that grief, however, before she felt hard, strong fingers grasping her throat. Too defeated at the loss of her brother, she didn’t even struggle as she felt her feet leave the ground and her own struggle to breathe began. She stared dully into the masked face of her own conjured demon._

_“You’re mine, Iris,” Zoom declared as he brought her closer to him, his face less than a few inches from hers. “You belong to me,” he then said, and suddenly, his free hand was elbow deep in her chest with his fingers wrapped around her heart. “This is mine, and mine alone,” he concluded before pulling the organ right from her chest. Darkness took over, but it wasn’t fast enough for Iris to miss the look of utter malice and possession in the dark, empty pits of black that were his eyes. Death suddenly could not come fast enough…_

 

* * *

 

 

OUT OF ORDER. PLEASE USE STAIRS.

Barry stared at the note taped to the elevator door with barely contained fury but also begrudging acceptance. After the night he had, it just seemed like _everything_ was meant to be complete and utter shit: his evening at the art gala, his argument with Patty, and the parting words that she had practically spat in his face before driving off. It was all one big disaster of a night, and the sign on the door was just the topper – the cherry on top of the crap-on-Barry sundae.

He slammed his thumb against the button, hoping he could catch a break, but the button stayed unlit, confirming that a walk was in his near future. Rolling his eyes while mentally telling himself to suck it up, he made his way to the stairwell and began the long trudge up the five flights of stairs to his floor. It wasn’t like he necessarily minded the trek; it just irritated him that he was going to have more than enough time to think back on, and thoroughly analyze, the last words Patty had said to him before driving off, squealing tires and all.

_“I entered this relationship ready to give you everything I had, Barry, and I’d like to think that I’ve tried to do that up to this point. Maybe you should consider what it is that’s keeping you back from doing the same with me before we go any further. I need to know if this is going anywhere before I give any more of myself to you.”_

Barry could fess up to the fact that when he had initially started dating Patty, he hadn’t really put in much of an effort in being a good boyfriend; in fact, he hadn’t really intended for the relationship with her to evolve into anything after he had accepted her initial offer to grab dinner. She was a newbie on the force, and she had complimented him on how neat his reports were, and he had found the whole thing adorable. So when she had asked, he had accepted despite the fact that he knew he was risking getting into an awkward situation by going out with a co-worker. Patty, however, had seemed eager to jump right in, and the date ended up going off pretty great with both of them realizing that they shared a good deal of common interests. The evening had even ended at her place.

The next day, however, after sneaking out of her bed and heading home, Barry had come to the conclusion that he liked her well enough, but the connection hadn’t really felt good enough to ask her out on a second date. As great as everything had been, he wasn’t sure he knew how to give more of himself to her. Sure, there was chemistry, but Barry hadn’t been sure if it was enough for him to actually commit, especially when he had been avoiding any kind of serious commitment ever since he and Bette had broken up in college.

Patty, however, had different thoughts on the matter. She called him the day after their date/hook up and she berated him for sneaking out of her apartment without allowing her to, at least, make him breakfast. She refused to accept his excuses or his subtle ploys to leave things be between them, and she had ended up showing up at his apartment with enough breakfast food to feed not only him, but Mark and Bette as well, though the latter refused the offer. Patty had been overly affectionate and sweet with him throughout the meal, but before she left later that day, she had told him that she would not chase him if he didn’t want to be with her. The decision to further their relationship would be up to him.

Barry had to resort to getting advice from his father on the matter due to the fact that the counsel he received from his roommates had been split with Mark telling Barry to take the leap with the blonde police officer, and Bette telling him that there were better fish in the sea. Henry hadn’t exactly given him an exact answer with a definitive yes or no, either, but his advice was more helpful.

When asked about how he knew that Nora was the one for him, the eldest Allen had said that he had felt an immediate spark from the start with the woman who would eventually be his wife, though their relationship hadn’t exactly been the wine and roses it was now. He told Barry that sometimes a relationship took more than chemistry – that it actually took some hard work and endurance – but that the more work put in toward the betterment of the relationship, the more fruitful it would become. Those words gave Barry enough incentive to finally decide that he wanted to give the relationship with Patty a real shot.

He liked to think that he had become a better partner to Patty after he made that decision to take the leap with her. He always made an effort to speak to her at least once every day, and he allowed her to dictate what they would do on their dates, even though he wasn’t necessarily crazy about watching Doctor Strange in theaters or going to art exhibits, but mostly they had fun. She was fun, and he enjoyed being with her, but the fact that she could accuse him of not being as equally committed to her as she was to him felt a bit like a low blow and an awakening. Had he really been such a horrible boyfriend to her that she would claim that he was practically nonexistent?

The last real relationship Barry had was with Bette whom he had met in his first physics class at Central City University. Just like with Patty, he and Bette had hit it off from the start, and they had quickly become one of the best known couples on campus, but after their Sophomore year ended, Bette had sat him down and told him that she just didn’t really feel like their relationship was working. Just like how he had been earlier that night with Patty, Barry had been caught off guard, but when she explained to him how they didn’t really fit together despite their similarities, Barry had realized that she was right. As much as he cared for her, there just wasn’t that fire and passion between them that he saw with his parents when he was growing up. The way that Henry Allen looked at Nora like she hung the moon every time he laid eyes on her had been something that Barry had always wanted for himself, and he had hoped that he would have that with Bette, but after her revelation, he had realized that it wasn’t there. As hard as it was to let her go, he had known that it was the right thing to do, and the two of them had remained close friends ever since.

Was that the same path that he was taking with Patty? Was he hoping to build the spark they had together into a flame that just didn’t want to build? Or was he just trying to cop out like he had done so many times before in the countless other hookups and flings he had tried to start but eventually gave up on after Bette?

Barry was pondering that deeply as he reached the third floor, but he became distracted by the sound of the stairwell door being slammed open from one of the floors below him, followed by racing footsteps that sounded immediately after. Whoever was in the stairwell with him was in some kind of hurry, and based on the speed in which the loud footsteps were coming toward him, he knew that they would overtake him soon. He moved closer to the wall, leaving plenty of room for the runner to pass.

The runner’s loud steps grew nearer and nearer until Barry heard them sounding on the landing right behind him. Turning his head to look at the runner over his shoulder, he felt his eyes widen at the sight of Bette racing toward him looking sweaty and disheveled: her red hair flying everywhere, her face and neck doused in sweat, and her chest rising and falling rapidly with every gasp that left her lips. He was shocked even more, however, when she ran up the stairs and passed him without so much as a look or glance back. Her pace remained unrelentingly fast as she climbed the steps rapidly like there was a fire, though if that were the case she was heading toward it instead of away.

Of their own volition, Barry’s feet quickened as well, as he found himself chasing after her. He was confused that she was even there with him in the stairwell, when he had left her with Iris earlier on in the evening. Had she left to get something? And if she did, why was she empty-handed? And why was she running up like there was an emergency?

“Bette, what’s going on? What are you doing?” he called up to her when he finally managed to catch up so that he was just two steps behind her. “What’s the hurry?”

Bette gave no response or indication that she was planning to respond as she continued running, until, finally, she reached the fifth floor and slowed her pace to a brisk walk.

“Maybe you would know if you had answered the _twenty_ calls I made to you!” she hissed out acerbically over her shoulder as she walked swiftly toward their apartment door, which was on the far side of the hall. “I guess you were probably too busy kissing Patty’s friends’ asses or sucking her face off to actually answer your goddamn phone.”

Immediately, Barry reached into the pocket of his slacks and plucked his phone out. As soon as the screen lit up, he saw that he had missed twenty-three calls from Bette, five from Tony, and one from their downstairs neighbor, Miss Hatchett. He felt his heart drop into his stomach as he realized that he had missed out on something very urgent, and adding to the fact that Iris’s name had not shown up in the notifications, he felt his entire body grow cold at the idea that something had happened to her and he had completely been oblivious to it all because of Patty’s insistence that he turn his phone off at the exhibit.

Bette was already at their door, putting the key into the lock when Barry finally caught up to her. Seeing the frantic, panicked look on her face did little to calm his own buzzing nerves.

“What happened? I thought that _you_ were here with Iris,” he said, pushing down the building guilt in his chest with the desire to help. He just needed more information to act on. “My phone was off, but I see that Miss Hatchett called. Did something happen in the apartment?”

Bette’s shaking hands were struggling to twist the key in the lock, and she was mumbling a string of profanities under her breath as she continued to try and twist the key only to meet resistance. Seeing her like that was another punch to Barry’s gut because it was a rarity to see Bette San Souci riled up. She was trained to remain calm in the highest stress situations, but she was close to being too rattled to even function properly. Barry chose that moment to intervene, seeing as she had shoved the key into the lock upside down. He took the key from her and shot her a look, silently asking her to answer his questions as he inserted the key correctly. Bette still looked angry and was about to shout at him some more, but she seemed to think better of it.

“I left here a few hours ago because Tony got off early, and Iris said that I should go see him. I should have known that it was a bad idea to leave her, especially with the wine and because of what we were talking about at the time, but I was horny and I missed my boyfriend so I left anyway,” she rambled as she dug her fingers into her disheveled tresses. “And then Miss Hatchett called me an hour ago, and she sounded upset because she said she heard screams coming from the apartment. She said she even knocked on the door to tell us to keep it down, but there wasn’t an answer, which frightened the hell out of me because when I tried calling Iris, right after, she didn’t answer me, either. So, of course, I started making my way back here, but there was a huge accident on the freeway that made traffic a bleeding nightmare everywhere, so I tried calling you to see if you were home or close to the apartment, but you didn’t answer, which was when I basically told Tony to commit every traffic violation imaginable to get us back here as soon as possible, which is how I’m here now, AND SERIOUSLY, WHAT IS TAKING SO LONG TO OPEN THE DAMNED DOOR, BARRY!?”

Realizing that he had paused to listen to her explanation, Barry quickly turned the key in the lock and opened it before he was yelled at any further. Bette pushed past him and made a beeline for Iris’s door, which Barry noted was still closed, which he hoped was a good sign. He was less than a step behind Bette as she reached the door and opened it instead of knocking. He took advantage of their height difference to peer over Bette’s shoulder as the door was opened to a still dark room.

“Iris?” Bette called out softly, her panicked tone somewhat softened from what she had been using with him less than a minute before. “Iris, are you awake?” she then said as she blindly reached for the light switch along the wall.

As soon as the room was filled with light, a soft gasp escaped Bette’s lips as she took in the scene before her. Her entire demeanor remained calm, but Barry could see her eyes widen as they wandered the room searching for her friend while trying not to be affected by the sight of broken shards of glass from what looked like the wine bottle Iris and Bette had out a few hours earlier, Iris’s bed, empty with the sheets tangled and hanging off the side of the bed, and red, smeared blotches on the floor that Barry’s CSI brain immediately knew was blood.

“Wh-what happened?” Barry questioned, his tone veering toward panic as Bette stepped farther into the room.“Where is she?”

Bette seemed to be doing a better job of remaining calm as she continued to make her way toward the other side of the room. She stopped abruptly when she reached the other side of Iris’s bed, her eyes wide as she looked upon something that Barry couldn’t see from the doorway. The red-haired woman placed her hand over her mouth as her eyes immediately began to glisten with tears, which sent another rush of panic to Barry who immediately made his way to where she was standing. Once again using his height to look over her shoulder, he too found himself somewhat shocked by what he saw. Iris had managed to squeeze herself into the small space between her nightstand and the far wall. Her legs were crossed and pulled up in what looked like an almost painful contortion that had her knees pressed to her chest and her arms wrapped around them. Her hands, which were stained red with what Barry could only assume was blood, were both grasping at the material of the cotton t-shirt covering her chest. Her cheeks were glistening with a steady stream of tears but her eyes remained squeezed closed, as though she were still sleeping or praying. Seeing her like that made Barry’s heart feel like it was made of lead inside his chest.

“Wh-” Barry began to speak, but Bette held a hand up to him to be silent, which he reluctantly complied with, considering Bette seemed to have a better grasp of the situation than he did. He was barely able to restrain himself from running to Iris and pulling her into his arms where he could soothe her and make sure she was okay, but he had a feeling that doing that would be more detrimental than helpful.

“Iris, sweetie?” Bette called out gently, her voice soft and soothing. She walked forward and slowly crouched down in front of where Iris was still curled up. “Iris, it’s me, Bette. I need you to open your eyes for me, sweetie.”

“B-Bette?” Iris whispered as her hands finally dropped from her chest and her eyes finally opened. Her shirt was streaked crimson from where her bloodied hands had grasped the material, and her voice quivered and was small, barely louder than a whisper, and it sounded congested and dull, like she was speaking from inside a bottle. “What are you d-doing here?”

Barry watched, immobile, as Bette reached out and gently cup Iris’s cheek, wiping at the stream of tears still falling from her eyes. His own hands balled into fists at his side as he found himself wanting his hand to be the one that wiped away those tears.

“You’re in our apartment, in your bedroom, on the floor by your bed,” Bette stated calmly as she continued to tenderly stroke Iris’s cheek. “You’re with me and Barry, and you gave us both quite a scare when you didn’t answer our calls.”

Iris sniffled as she began to wipe at her own cheeks with the back of her hand. Barry felt his throat go dry at the sight of the her palms covered in blood that was oozing from a handful of cuts on her fingers and palms. Her fragile state was jarring to say the least, and it fueled the urge to step forward and do something and yet he couldn’t get himself to act on that urge.

“H-h-he was here, B-Bette,” Iris mumbled. “He was here, and h-h-he was an-angry, and he w-wa-wanted to hurt me and Wally.”

“No, no, no,” Bette replied sternly but gently, shaking her head frantically back and forth. “He’s not here and he never was,” she went on firmly. “He’s never going to come to you again, Iris. You’re here, and you’re safe with me. It was all just a dream.”

“And Wally?” Iris cried worriedly, her eyes finally veering away from Bette as she seemed to search worriedly for another presence in the room. Her eyes caught sight of Barry, but she looked right past him as though he weren’t even there and continued looking around the room for something or someone else.

Bette reached forward, gently placed her fingers on Iris’s trembling chin, and forced the latter to look back at her. “Wally is safe and sound in Coast City. He’s probably sound asleep with Linda as we speak,” she said calmly.

More tears began to fall down Iris’s face as her lips began to quiver. “Are you sure?” she cried, her voice veering toward panic.

“If you want to call him to see for yourself, then I’ll get my phone, but I want to make sure that _you_ are okay first. It looks like you cut yourself up pretty bad,” Bette said, gesturing to Iris’s hands. “Will you let me have a look?”

Iris looked down at her own hands and her brow furrowed when she saw the cuts, like she was just noticing that they were there. She then looked back up to Bette with confusion etched on her face. “What happened to me?”

Barry stepped forward, no longer able to just stand back and watch, but Bette turned her head and shot a stern look over her shoulder at him, freezing him in place. He shot her a pleading look back, silently asking for her to let him help, but Bette shook her head once firmly and returned her attention back to Iris in clear dismissal. He didn’t want to leave, but the vibe in the room gave him the resounding impression that he was not needed, so he slowly made his way back toward the doorway. Shooting another glance over his shoulder when he reached the door, he couldn’t see either woman anymore, but he could hear Bette whispering soothingly to Iris. It was enough reassurance for him to leave the two of them alone long enough to retrieve the first-aid kit.

Tony was just making his way through the front door when Barry came out of the closet where they kept the kit. The larger man looked winded, which Barry could only assume meant that he had run up the five flights of stairs with the same relentlessness as his girlfriend.

“Did Bette make it up here?” Tony asked in between gasps, worry overpowering the exhaustion in his voice.

Barry nodded solemnly. “She raced right past me,” he said and then rubbed his neck awkwardly. “Sorry you guys had to rush here. My phone was off and I didn’t know there was an emergency.”

Tony waved Barry’s apology off with a flick of his thick, meaty hand. “It’s all right. Bette would have wanted to get here just as quickly and would’ve been just as reckless even if you had answered your phone. Iris is basically her sister, so she wouldn’t have completely trusted your judgment of the situation, regardless.”

He looked through the open door to Iris’s room where soft voices were still conversing just loud enough for both men to hear but not quite loud enough for the words to be decipherable. When he turned around, he saw the first-aid kit in Barry’s hand and frowned.

“Is Iris all right?” he asked, his voice quieter now, though still filled with worry.

“Um… I think so.” Barry hated how uncertain his voice sounded saying those words. Luckily Bette saved him from having to explain things any further by appearing in the doorway.

“Iris really cut up her hands pretty bad.” Her words were addressed to Tony, but it was Barry who nodded, relieved that there was finally something that he could possibly do to help.

“Should we take her to the hospital?” he asked eagerly.

Bette shook her head. “She’s still a little shaken, so the less people around her, the better.” Her words were spoken in a short, almost abrasive tone. “She also absolutely hates hospitals, so taking her there would probably freak her out more. You don’t have to worry about helping her because Tony and I can handle it. We’ll be fine.”

“Babe-” Tony started to object as he took in the look of rejection on Barry’s face, but Bette shot him one look and the much larger man closed his mouth and became silent.

“I’m going to clean and bandage her up,” Bette declared more firmly.

It was Tony’s turn to nod, but Barry was unable to just sit back and do nothing. He could see Iris over Bette’s shoulder. She was seated on her bed, facing the door, with her head bowed down and both her legs draped over the edge. The desire to see her face to see if she was okay was so strong that before he knew what he was doing, he was calling her name.

“Iris? _Iris!_ ”

She looked up at the sound of her name being called, and her eyes met his. He could swear that he saw a wave of wariness and fear in her eyes as she looked at him, but the most present emotion on her face was embarrassment. Before he could call out to her again, she lowered her head back down to stare at her bloody hands in her lap, her hair falling around her head like a curtain, hiding her face from his gaze.

Barry stepped forward, ready to put his foot in the doorway, but Bette placed herself in front of him, blocking his path. He opened his mouth to call out to her again, but Bette once again silenced him by taking the kit from under his arm and shutting the door in his face. The message was clear from both women: he was not wanted there.

 

* * *

  

Iris’s head felt like it was filled with smoke and fog, and her hands felt like they were on fire despite the fact that the cuts on her palms had been somewhat haphazardly cleaned and bandaged by Bette to the best of her ability. The pain was just a hair’s breadth on the side of bearable, but because she had convinced Bette that the cuts weren’t serious enough to warrant a visit to the ER, she had to hide just how much pain she was in from her best friend. As scarred as she was by some of the events of her past, there was a small upside of living in the same household with a secretly sadistic sociopath. It had made her a professional at hiding her pain from others.

“If your hands hurt, then tell me. Tony is staying in my room tonight, so it’ll be easy for us to have him take us to the ER if you need to see a doctor.” Bette had paused in the middle of sweeping the shards of glass on the floor to say this, most likely because she could sense how much pain Iris was still in despite the latter doing a fairly impressive job of schooling her features into an impassive mask. “I’ll be with you the entire time. There won’t be a single second where you would ever be alone.”

Iris shook her head as she gazed up pleadingly into Bette’s concerned gaze. “No, no, it’s okay,” she lied behind gritted teeth just as another jolt of searing pain slid up her hands. “I think I just want to go to bed and sleep, and if my hands feel or look worse in the morning, then I’ll go to the doctor to see if I need stitches or anything like that.”

Bette continued to stare down at her warily. Iris could tell that it was taking every ounce of patience that her best friend possessed to rein in the urge to ignore her excuses and just drag her to the nearest ER – a feat that could be easily accomplished with Tony’s bulging muscles at Bette’s disposal. Iris made sure to give Bette her warmest smile to show her just how appreciative she was of the fact that the normally stubborn and take-charge redhead was exercising restraint.

“Fine,” Bette acquiesced after heaving out a sigh. “But I’m staying with you tonight, and if I hear you crying, or if I see you wincing too much then I reserve the right to drag your ass to the hospital. No excuses or complaints.”

Iris nodded solemnly, though she knew she would rather have her hands fall off than actually go to the hospital. She was, however, happy to hear Bette say that she would be staying with her. The last thing she wanted was to be alone.

“You don’t have to worry about the glass, Bette. I can pick it up in the morning,” she said, hoping to change the subject.

“Why would I do that? You could cut yourself… _worse_.” Bette frowned as she glanced worriedly at Iris. The frown on her lips only grew more grave by what she saw. Iris could only assume that Bette probably saw how detached she, Iris, still felt despite having been fully awake for the past fifteen minutes.

Bowing her head, she stared down at her hands that lay in her lap. _At least with those shards in the room, I would know I’m not the only_ _broken thing i_ _n here._

Iris heard a sharp gasp, and when she looked up, she found Bette looking back at her with tears in her blue eyes. She hadn’t realized that she had actually uttered that thought aloud.

The broom in Bette’s hand hit the floor with a resounding _thwack_ and before Iris knew what was happening, she was wrapped up tight in her best friend’s arms. She didn’t even try to resist the embrace, nor did she want to, because in the midst of her feeling like she was falling apart, Bette’s arms acted as a temporary glue keeping the thousands of pieces together.

“You’re _not_ broken, you never were,” Bette stated firmly as she held Iris tightly. Her voice was gentle but held a sharp edge that was meant to pierce through the fog of doubt in Iris’s head. “You went through something that no one should _ever_ have to go through, Iris, and you came out on the other side intact. It was that asshole who was broken, and his sickness made him try to break you, but he didn’t. He never could because you’re so much stronger than his sickness.”

Iris closed her eyes and pressed her cheek to Bette’s shoulder, her tears leaking from the corner of her eyes, soaking the material of Bette’s shirt. “I don’t feel strong right now, Bette,” she cried softly.

“That’s just because you’re human, Iris, and you have a big heart that feels everything. No one can go what you went through unscathed, but that just means that when you’re feeling weak or scared that you should let those of us who love you be strong for you.”

The two women continued to hold each other tight for another few minutes: one giving all the comfort she could give and the other soaking up as much of that comfort as she could.

“You may not know this, but I thank God for you every day, Bette San Souci,” Iris said softly as she rested her had on Bette’s shoulder. “I don’t think I could have lasted this long if I didn’t have you.”

“Actually, I did know that,” Bette replied with a smirk that actually brought a genuine smile back to Iris’s face. “And you’ll always have me because I don’t plan on going anywhere.” She placed a hand on top of Iris’s, though she made sure to be gentle so as not to cause her anymore pain. They sat like that for a few more moments before eventually pulling apart. Bette returned to sweeping up the glass and Iris remained seated on the bed, silently watching her.

“So… Wally and Linda are going to be visiting in a few weeks. It’ll be nice to have him around again, right?”

A small, tentative smile appeared on Iris’s lips. “Yeah, it’ll be nice to have him in the same city again, even if it’s just for a few days. You’d think I would be happy to be able to dish him off on Linda, but I miss him more and more the longer we’re apart.”

Bette smiled as well, but it became a bit strained as she looked to Iris thoughtfully. She opened her mouth, but then paused in hesitation before shaking her head and going on. “Maybe, if you wanted, it would be a good time… for you to tell him about what happened to you.”

“You know I can’t do that,” Iris replied immediately, shaking her head vehemently. “The only thing that made all of the stuff with _him_ bearable was knowing that it was keeping Wally safe and with me. Wally being oblivious to all of that was something that made it easier to deal with the cuts and the bruises I got from _him_.”

“I understand you keeping it from Wally back then, because he was a kid and he was still messed up over your dad, but he’s 24 now, Iris. Thanks to you, he’s on the path to becoming an engineer, on a path to having a career doing something he loves, and he is now married to the love of his life. I’m sure he could handle hearing about the past that you kept secret from him if you just gave him the chance, especially if it would help you move forward in your own life.”

“You sound like all the therapists who all suggested the same thing,” Iris murmured sullenly. “They all presumed that telling Wally would automatically fix me, but they were all wrong. If anything, it would destroy me if Wally found out because I just know how he would take it. He would blame himself for what happened, and then he would feel guilty, and that’s the last thing I want for him to feel. I don’t ever want him to feel guilty for living his life. It’s not his fault what happened to me then.”

“And how do you think he would take it if he found out, and he realized how much strain you’ve put upon yourself for his benefit? Do you really think he wouldn’t want to know that you’re having nightmares – that you’ve had them from the moment you left that crazy house? How do you think he would react to what happened tonight?”

“Well, that’s something we’ll never know because I don’t plan on telling him.” Iris folded her arms across her chest, though she was careful not to jostle her hands too much, in a gesture that was the silent equivalent of saying ‘don’t push it’. “I love you, but this is just one of those things that I don’t really plan on caving in on. I’m sorry.”

Bette once again looked like she was struggling with her patience, but after a minute of silent struggle, she nodded her head abruptly. “You’re really lucky that I love you, and that you’re hurt, otherwise this conversation would be far from over, missy,” she stated solemnly. “Now, I’m going to go throw this glass away, kiss my boyfriend goodnight, and then come back here to snuggle comfort you, okay?”

Iris smiled, relieved that the issue was dropped, and grateful that Bette was still planning on coming back. She didn’t feel like she had the energy to fight the one person who had always been in her corner when she needed someone the most. “Thanks again, for everything, and make sure to tell Tony ‘sorry’ for me for stealing his girlfriend for the night.”

Rolling her eyes with feigned exasperation, Bette rose from the bed. “He’s a big boy who can handle it, but I’ll tell him anyway.”

Iris watched silently as Bette returned to sweeping up the broken glass, and then she slowly rose from her bed as her best friend disappeared through the door. She waited a few seconds for Bette to get further down the hall before she made her way to the bathroom, which was conveniently located across the hall from her bedroom. A thorough perusal of the medicine cabinet was on the agenda because sleep was definitely not going to be possible without some powerful painkillers.

A minute later, Iris found herself swearing at a bottle of aspirin that lay on her palm, unopened. As great as it was to know that children would be incapable of getting to the pills because of the childproof lid, in her current condition, she was was equally incapable of accessing pain relief because her hands had basically become useless. Bette’s bandage job allowed very little movement of her fingers, and every time she so much as tried to squeeze the top, the pain that shot up her hand and wrist was intense enough to make tears stream down her face. She was literally on the verge of chucking the pill bottle right into the mirror from her frustration when she heard a loud throat clearing behind her. Gazing into the mirror, she quickly bypassed her own reflection, which she was not surprised to see was a complete mess with the red, puffy eyes and tear-streaked cheeks, and focused on figure standing in the doorway behind her. It was Barry. He had changed from his tux and was now wearing a dark blue t-shirt and flannel pajama bottoms with his auburn hair pointing in all separate directions.

“If you’re in a lot of pain, then you really should be going to the hospital.” His voice was soft and quiet, almost like how Iris imagined he would speak to a wounded animal. She didn’t know if she appreciated the fact that he was using that tone with her or felt even more mortified that he felt the need to handle her with kid gloves.

She slowly turned her body around to face his, but bowed her head at the last second to avoid looking up at him directly and seeing what she expected to be a look of pity on his face. “The cuts weren’t so bad, so we decided to hold off on going to the hospital.” His gaze felt like it was scorching the top of her head, but she still did not look up. “I’m just taking some painkillers to help me go to sleep, right now.”

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?” Even though he remained in the doorway, Iris could feel his concerned gaze weighing on her like an anvil.

“Yeah,” she answered shortly, but when she actually looked down at her hands she was alarmed to find that the bandages that Bette had just put on her palms were no longer white, but blotched with dark crimson circles. She could practically feel Tony’s meaty fingertips already on her arms, carrying her out the door as she stared at her hands, and the thought of having to go to the hospital actually made her stomach feel like it had suddenly become a home to thousands of overactive slugs crawling around the sides, churning the acid in her stomach.

“I think I’m just gonna take some painkillers to help me sleep for now, but if my hands aren’t any better or look worse in the morning, then I’ll have Bette take me to the hospital,” she continued, offering the same compromise that Bette had offered her.

She expected Barry to take the bait and scoot, having offered his concerns and his obligatory two cents on the matter, but when she finally willed herself to look up, she found him still planted in the doorway with a frown on his lips and a furrow in his brow. A part of her actually felt elated that he seemed to actually care, but the thought of him pushing the issue of her going to the hospital smothered that elation right out.

Barry took a few slow steps toward her. His green eyes remained focused completely on hers as he reached out his hand and silently plucked the pill bottle from between her fingers. He made no sign of having seen the little splotches of blood on the bottle that had come from her hands as he popped the lid off with the effortlessness that was expected of a grown, non-injured person. He poured three brown pill into the palm of his hand and then shut the bottle again before placing it on the sink behind her back, the move putting him even more into her space. Iris froze, not daring to move or even breathe as she listened to him open the cabinet and remove the rinsing cup that she kept there. She then listened as he turned on the sink and filled the glass. His closeness made her even more hesitant to exhale the air that had remained caught in her lungs from the moment he had entered her space. The fact that his eyes hadn’t left hers the entire time didn’t make it any easier.

“Here, take these,” he said as he finally took a step back from her to offer the pills and the cup in his hands.

Iris reached her hand out to take the pills, but his fingers closed around them, making her frown up at him in confusion. Instead of explaining, Barry lifted his hand up so that his fingers hovered near her lips. When she just stared at his hand, still confused, he pulled it back a fraction.

“I kinda doubt you want to get blood on them before you take them,” Barry explained, still holding them up.

Realizing that he had seen the blood on her palms and that he had a point with her not wanting to ingest it, Iris nodded her head in understanding and slowly opened her mouth, allowing him to put the pills on her tongue. She then complied as he raised the glass to her lips. She took a large gulp, washing the pills down with the water.

“Thanks,” she murmured after he put the cup down and finally put some real distance between them. She once again bowed her head, feeling somewhat bashful at the fact that he had basically had to feed her the pills, which meant that he understood just how not okay she really was. The fact that the entire process had felt so intimate was not completely lost on her, either.

They stood there for a moment, allowing the silence to wrap around them like a thick blanket. Iris was waiting for him to leave so she could do the same, but he remained steadfast in the doorway like an impenetrable wall despite his slender build. After everything he had just done for her, she didn’t want to just push past him to get to her room, but she also wasn’t sure why they were still standing there.

“Can I...” she heard him begin reluctantly before pausing. Lifting her head up, she found him looking at her with a mixture of uncertainty and desperation. It was clear that he wanted to ask her something, but he seemed to be afraid of how she would take it.

“Can you what?” she asked softly..

“Do you think that… I could take a look at your hands before you go?” His eyes remained on her face, most likely searching for signs of anger or distress from the question.

“Why?” Iris responded with a question of her own. She couldn’t help but feel suspicious of his offer, especially after his inquiries about taking her to the hospital. The thought of him wanting to gain proof that she needed to go was not something she wanted to deal with again.

“It looks like you’re bleeding a lot,” he reasoned. “I know that Bette is perfectly capable of putting on a bandage, but I just want to see if I can clean it up for you a bit before you go to sleep.”

Tilting her head to the side, Iris squinted her eyes at him warily. “Are you even qualified to do any of that?”

A small smile began to play around his lips as he took another step toward her. “I’m a CSI, so I’m very familiar with what happens if the bleeding isn’t treated properly, so… I guess I could be qualified in that regard.”

Unable to stop her own smile, Iris couldn’t resist the urge to poke at him a little. “So I should just trust you because you know what death looks like?”

Reaching out his hands, Barry gently brushed her wrists with his fingers and he led her to the toilet seat where he put the seat down for her to take a seat. “Well, considering the fact that you trusted Bette, even though she’s an explosives expert with no medical background whatsoever, should give me a little wiggle room in the qualifications department.”

“Hey, I heard that,” Bette remarked, suddenly appearing in the doorway. “And for your information, Barry Allen, I’m certified in First-Aid.”

Barry rolled his eyes for Iris to see before turning his attention to their other roommate. “You took that class two-and-a-half years ago, and you told me that you basically had to bribe your way to receive your certification because you slept through most of the class, B.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve been patching Iris up for as long as I can remember, so even if I don’t have experience with other people, I have experience with _her_ and that’s what counts.”

Barry looked like he was on the verge of retorting, and Iris could see, in the way that Bette’s eyes are narrowed at him, that her best friendwas just waiting for another excuse to snap at him, so she chose to intervene.

“I bled through the bandage, and he’s just changing it, Bette,” she reasoned with her best friend as she shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. “Besides, I’m not shaking and fidgeting as much since the aspirin kicked in, so it’ll probably be a little better now.”

“Whatever, I’m gonna make some cocoa for us,” Bette remarked with a roll of her eyes and then pushed off the doorjamb and disappeared out the door, leaving Barry and Iris alone in her wake.

“Hold on a second. I’ll be right back.”

Barry got up and disappeared into the kitchen for a moment before returning with the first-aid kit and a bowl filled with clean towels. He filled up the bowl with warm water and soap and then returned to Iris, seating himself on the lip of the bathtub in front of her, which was close enough that their knees touched. He placed her hands on his lap and went to work, his fingers gentle as they slowly worked to unwrap the wet bandages from her hands. Iris didn’t realize how intensely she was studying his expression as he worked until she watched him suck in a small breath as he took in the sight of the handful of cuts on both her palms and fingers. The corners of his lips turned down, and she swore that his eyes widened and grew wet, though she passed it off as exhaustion, considering that fact that they were well within the wee morning hours.

“I’m sorry that Bette has been so short with you,” she offered gently before hissing at a small shock of pain from the bandage rubbing against one of her cuts. Barry froze and looked up in regret, but that just pushed her on in her own efforts of passing things along. “She’s been dealing with my psycho night terrors ever since we were teenagers, and she sometimes gets overprotective. I’m sorry if you got caught up in that.”

“Oh, I’m aware of how protective she is. I was there with her, one time when we were dating, when you called in the middle of the night. I started to complain because it was so late and I didn’t know who was calling, but Bette told me to shut the hell up and kicked me out of her room while she talked to you on the phone.”

Iris felt her face heat up as she bowed her head, mortified. Bette was always her go-to whenever she had nightmares, especially when she needed to vent but knew better than to wake up Wally. She knew that Bette would always put her first, above any guy, just as she would have done if she had ever been in a relationship with anyone for more than a few weeks, but actually seeing how she may have affected her best friend’s relationships because of her problems suddenly felt like a stone pill in her stomach.

“Hey, I didn’t say that to make you feel bad,” Barry said, pulling her out of her thoughts. He frowned as he paused from unwrapping her hand. (It was then that Iris realized that Bette had been more than generous with the amount of bandage and tape she had used on her hands.) “And it’s not your fault that she was mad at me, tonight, either. It was actually my fault that she’s mad at me, not yours.”

“What happened?” Iris asked quietly, uncertain of whether or not it was her place to inquire further.

“She called me after she got the call from Miss Hatchett that she had heard screaming from the apartment,” he explained quietly, his tone quiet and sullen as he continued working on her hands. “She was rushing to get back to you, but there was an accident that slowed her down, and she wanted me to get here as fast as I could.”

The way he spoke made Iris tilt her head in confusion. His tone reminded her of a boy telling a teacher that he had cheated on a test or stolen something from a classmate. He sounded ashamed.

“Why would that make her angry with you?”

“Because… she called me more than twenty times, and I missed all of them because I turned my phone off at the gallery.” The sound of dejection and remorse in his voice and the penitent look on his face as he averted his eyes made Iris feel her own sorrow on his behalf. “I didn’t see that she called until she was running past me on the stairwell. I could have been here sooner if I had just answered one of her calls.”

Iris shook her head. “You have no obligation to me, Barry, nor did you expect what happened to me to have happened, so what is there possibly to blame yourself for? _I_ was the one who had the nightmare, and _I_ was the one who had a freak out. That has nothing to do with you, so you don’t need to feel any guilt, whatsoever, because you were handling your priorities, and I think once she calms down, Bette will see it that way, too. If anything, _I_ should be the one apologizing for ruining your night, and I _do_ apologize for that. I don’t ever want to be a burden on _anyone._ ”

“Oh, believe me, my night was ruined _long_ before I came home,” Barry murmured darkly. “And I _do_ feel guilty for not being here because you are my friend, and I care about you a lot, Iris,” he then declared, looking directly into her eyes as he said it. She had trouble being under such an intense gaze, but she could sense that he meant it, which was why she couldn’t let herself look away.

His words made her heavy heart feel like it had lost ten pounds. Iris was caught off guard at the warmth building inside her chest. It felt like an anvil had just been lifted off her back, and she was on the verge of floating right off the toilet seat. A whole fleet of words danced onto the tip her tongue, desperate to escape her lips and flow to his ears. But just as quickly as they appeared, she gulped them down and forced them down further into the back of her throat. There was no way she was planning on letting any of the things that had floated to her mind ever be spoken aloud.

“Was the gallery that bad?” she asked gently, instead, choosing to focus on what he had said first instead of what he had said about caring for her. “Is that why your night was so bad?”

Barry, seemingly unaware of the inner struggle within her, took the bait like a champ. “Well, the art all looked like it had been painted by a child, and when I told Patty that, she called me ‘an uncultured ass’,” he replied with a scoff. “And her friends all ganged up on me while we were there, which set Patty off so bad that it’s come to the point where I’m not even sure that I can call her my girlfriend anymore.”

Iris winced as she listened to Barry recount the events of his evening. She actually felt a pang of remorse for how badly his night had gone. It was dangerously close to being as bad as hers, which made her almost want to hug him just to make him feel better like Bette’s hug had done for her, but she chose to offer an apologetic smile and some kind words instead.

“I’m so sorry. It does sound like your night was kinda crap,” she apologized softy, wishing she could turn her hands around and grasp his hands in her own. “Coming home to a crazy roommate was just the cherry on top, huh?”

Barry huffed. “You’re _not_ crazy, and if we’re being completely honest, this here, right now, has been the best part of my night.”

At Iris’s cocked eyebrow, Barry closed his eyes and shook his head, realizing how that sounded. “ _Not_ you getting hurt,” he rectified quickly. “I don’t like that you got hurt, I actually hate that more than anything else that happened tonight, but this moment… right here where I get to help you has been a bright spot in my night because I should have been here when you needed me, and I wasn’t.” A determined look suddenly took over him as he clenched his jaw and focused his gaze back onto her face. “I was late, tonight, but I won’t be next time. I promise that when you need me, I will be there, on time, because you’re worth being on time for, Iris. You’re not a burden, and you never will be.”

Iris was caught off guard by the words and the sincerity in them. They actually brought actual tears to her eyes, and made her heart feel like it was swelling inside of her chest. When he said things like that, it made it so hard for her to stay behind the barriers she always kept around herself. It shook her very foundation, which was why she said what she said next.

“I don’t think you have to worry about Patty. I really do think that everything with her will work out.”

Barry raised his eyebrows, evidently caught off guard by her statement. Before she could lose her nerve, Iris continued on.

“You are one of the smartest, sweetest, most generous people I have ever met, Barry Allen. You’re the most adorable nerd that I’ve ever known, and believe me, I’ve met a lot of them,” she remarked gently, smiling up into his face that had grown stoic as he listened to her, rapt. “What I mean to say is that you are an amazing person, and if Patty is aware of even a fraction of all that, she won’t just let you go no matter how hard things got.” _I know I wouldn’t_ , was the thought that followed but she managed to catch herself before she could utter that thought aloud.

The stoic expression on his face remained in place for a long moment after she had fallen silent. Iris felt her entire face grow hot and suddenly had the urge to just get up and run, hands be damned. She felt naked under his gaze, _exposed._ She was already in the midst of planning her escape, when Barry’s lips finally twitched up. If it had been just that small smile, Iris would have assumed that he was just trying to placate her, but that smile turned into a grin – one so big that she was almost certain that it was going to split his face in half. Of their own volition, Iris felt her own lips twitch up in a smile as well, though it was far smaller than his, but only because she forced it to remain that way. She had given him enough of herself for one night.

“Thanks, Iris,” he replied, his words spoken like a soft whisper that somehow felt more intimate than the moment should have called for.

The grin remained on Barry’s lips as he finished unwrapping both of her hands, but it faded as soon as he got a look at the damage that had been done unwittingly by herself.

“There are a lot of cuts,” he observed quietly under his breath before looking up directly into her watchful gaze. “More than what I thought I saw before. Are you… Are you in a lot of pain? This looks really painful.”

Iris pulled her bottom lip between her teeth as a small surge of pain slid up her arms at the fresh exposure of her wounded hands. “It’s… not unbearable, but I do think the painkillers are kicking in.” She was only lying a little bit at this point, but she was determined to avoid returning to the topic of him insisting on a hospital visit.

“I don’t know how you’re not screaming,” he observed quietly, still frowning at the wounds on her hands. “I don’t think I could handle this amount of pain without a morphine shot.”

Shrugging her shoulders, Iris averted her eyes to the ground. “I have a high pain threshold. Based on some of the other injuries I’ve gotten over the years, this is nothing.”

“Is that why you hate going to the hospital?” he prodded as he picked up a towel and began to clean her hands. “Because you’ve had to be bandaged up so many times before?”

“Well, let’s just say that some of the doctors I’ve come across left more wounds than they healed,” she muttered lowly, avoiding his gaze as she stared at her lap.

When she felt Barry stiffen at her words, she immediately realized who she was talking to and how he could possibly take what she said, considering the fact that his father was a doctor. Biting her lip, she mentally rolled her eyes at herself.

“Not that I think _all_ doctors are bad,” she rectified quickly, reluctantly raising her eyes to meet his, but he made it a point to keep his focus primarily on cleaning her hands. “I don’t know your father, Barry, but I’m sure he’s an amazing doctor. Maybe if he had been one of my doctors, I wouldn’t have such a phobia of hospitals. In fact, I would be happy to meet him, and I’m sure I would love him. I mean, I’ve met a lot of doctors in my lifetime. Jay has a PhD in physics, so he could be considered a doctor, even though he couldn’t do anything with my hands if he were here because he’s not _that_ kind of doctor. And you’re not a doctor, either, but you’re treating me like you are and...”

Iris realized she was babbling like an idiot when she noticed Barry’s lips twitch up just seconds before his eyes flitted up and met hers. The embarrassment she expected to feel for the nonsensical rant she had just gone on was overshadowed by the warmth she felt in the pit of her stomach at the sight of that grin on his face.

“I get the hint,” he said gently, “and I’m not offended. Hospitals _are_ kinda creepy. My mom hates hospitals, too, which is why she never visits my dad at work, like ever. She even made him come home to treat her one time when she fell and dislocated her shoulder while she was painting in the living room. My dad used to tease her and say that the only reason that she married him was because she wanted to avoid ever having to go to a hospital.”

Trying her damnedest to hide the small laugh that was bubbling behind her lips, Iris pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, but she still found herself smiling.

“It must have been nice growing up with a good doctor just down the hall,” she mused lightly, entranced as she watched him finish cleaning her hands and begin wrapping them again. She had to force herself to remain encompassed with the conversation because that particular thought was dangerously close to the edge of the pit that was her own dark past.

“Yeah, I guess, but if I’m being honest,” he said, leaning in as though he were about to reveal an earth-shattering secret, “I preferred my mom’s patch up jobs over my dad’s.”

Iris, who had unwittingly leaned in when he had, narrowed her eyes thoughtfully. “So, what I’m gathering from you is that either you are a huge mama’s boy or your dad is not as amazing a doctor as I presumed.”

Barry’s cheeks became tinged with pink as he averted his eyes from her gaze to focus on the bandages. “My dad _is_ an amazing doctor,” he declared shortly and looked as though he was going to say more but then he closed his mouth instead. His face grew even redder.

The laughter this time burst from Iris’s lips before she could even attempt to tamp it down, and she was glad that she didn’t try because the laughter felt good. She found his bashfulness endearing, even as she realized that the opportunity to tease him was too good to pass on.

“So you’re admitting that you _are_ a mama’s boy?” she clarified lightly before giggling at the revelation. “Why am I not surprised?”

Barry chuckled along with her, this time, even though his cheeks remained stained with pink. “Hey, I am not ashamed to admit that I _am_ a bit of a mama’s boy, but to be completely fair, that’s not the _only_ reason why I usually wanted her to clean and bandage me up when I came home scraped and bruised.”

Iris looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to spill, but Barry once again made it a point to avoid looking at her by pretending his entire focus was on wrapping her hand. He completed her right hand and began to work on her left, silently. Iris, however, could not just let the issue drop, and she couldn’t hold in her irritation anymore.

“Well… you have me at the edge of my seat, Bar’,” she urged. “You can’t just leave me hanging.”

He actually had the nerve to look at her like he had no idea what she was talking about. With her hands out of commission and his shoulders too far for hers to reach, Iris nudged his knee with hers and stuck out her bottom lip in her best pout. Still, he continued wrapping her hand, his motions still gentle, as he acted like he had completely forgotten that they had even been talking about anything at all.

“Oh my _God_ , Barry, are you going to tell me or not?” Iris exclaimed, nearing her wit’s end.

The answering smirk he gave her almost made Iris wish that her hands were back to working order so that she could slap it off his face. That particular urge, however, vanished as soon as his eyes met hers and she saw the mischief there. For some reason, she was suddenly transfixed by how long his eyelashes looked and how green his eyes were, though she could now see the flecks of blue and gold in the irises with him being so close. She hadn’t even realized that they had started to move closer together. When had that even happened?

“My dad may have been the doctor in the house, but I always felt like I healed faster when my mom would patch me up,” he replied slowly, his hands placing the last bit of tape on her hands, which had thankfully finally gone numb from the pain medication. “And it wasn’t anything medical. She’s not medically trained or anything. She just did one thing that he didn’t, but that one thing always made me feel better, and I personally believe that it made me heal faster.”

“What was it?” Iris asked, her curiosity slicing through her strange mess of confusing thoughts concerning his nearness.

With his smirk widening, Barry raised her freshly bandaged hands up to his face. Iris gave him a wary look, not understanding what he was doing. It wasn’t until she saw him lower his head that she finally understood what was about to happen, and with that realization came the urge to pull her hands right out of his grasp before he could do it. Before she could act on that urge, however, his lips landed on the fresh bandages covering her right palm. Even though his lips weren’t even touching her skin, Iris felt a surge of warmth enter her palm from that simple kiss and that warmth slid up her arm into her neck and cheeks, and then down to her collar, before settling in her chest, right behind her ribs. It wrapped around her heart, providing it with a surge of energy that made it begin to beat rapidly against her rib cage. She was given no time at all to recover before she was slammed with another shock current of heat as he kissed her other palm without even missing a beat. Her entire body became swarmed with a buzz that made her feel both tingly and hot at the same time.

Barry placed her hands back in his lap, and finally looked up at her with that smirk still on his lips. It, however, began to fade at what he saw on her face. Iris wasn’t sure what it was he saw, but before she even knew what was happening, she saw him start to lean his face in toward hers, closing the distance between them. Her brain was ablaze with conflicting thoughts that were screaming at her to both get a hold of herself and to let go. The only reassurance she had that everything wasn’t going to complete hell was the fact that she could feel herself wanting, desperately, to lean in and close the gap between them completely.

 _“_ _Hey, aren’t you done yet? Your cocoa’s getting cold.”_

Bette’s voice acted like ice to Iris’s heated body. She not only pulled away from Barry, whose face had come within less than an inch of her own – close enough for her to feel his breath on her lips – but she rose from the toilet seat and placed as much distance between them, which given the size of the small bathroom, had her careening right into the bathroom sink. Of course, such a move only made what happened between Barry and herself even more awkward as he looked up at her in shock and confusion. His hand reached out to her as though he planned on pulling her back to him, but she pushed herself back even more into the sink, retreating from him, just as Bette appeared in the doorway.

“Did I interrupt something?” the redhead questioned awkwardly, choosing to focus her gaze on Iris whose face probably would have been beat read if not for the rich brown color of her cheeks.

Iris shook her head profusely as she did everything in her power to avoid looking at Barry whose gaze burned into her profile. “Oh, no, Barry was just showing me a trick his mom used to do with him to help with the pain,” she replied nonchalantly, though it didn’t come off as light or effortless as she had intended. Her voice was too loud, but it was still didn’t drown out the heavy thumping of her heart in her ears. “He’s done, and my hands are feeling a lot better, so...” she said and then dropped off, holding up her freshly bandaged hands to drive the point home.

Bette’s eyes narrowed as she flicked her eyes to Barry before returning her gaze to Iris. If she found anything questionable about the situation, she chose not to bring it to light as she merely nodded her head slowly toward Iris.

“Well, come to bed, then. Your cocoa’s getting cold,” she replied before turning and leaving once more.

Iris started to follow, but before walking out the door, she was unable to stop herself from looking back over her shoulder to Barry, who had yet to rise from his seat on the lip of the tub. Her eyes met his gaze, and instantly, that previous bout of energy once again slithered its way throughout her body. In his green eyes, she could see a longing that she no doubt knew would be mirrored in her own. She felt like a raw nerve had gone off in the pit of her being, yearning for her to turn around and go back to him and finish what they had started to do less than a minute before. She could practically feel her feet begging to walk back to him, but it was seeing the look in his eye – the naked yearning and want – that finally put that notion to rest. It too closely resembled a look that brought all notions of desire and warmth to a crash and burn behind the wariness and fear that she had pushed back the whole time she had been with Barry. It came back with a vengeance, forcing memories of pain and fear to the forefront of her thoughts while dragging her back into the recesses of the walls she had ventured too far from during her encounter with him.

The change inside of her must have become evident in her eyes because a second later, a sad smile crossed Barry’s lips before he finally tore his gaze from her. He started to pick up the previously discarded bandages and dirty towels around him, placing them back into the bowl with his back now turned to her. He did not look up at her again, and Iris realized that he was allowing her to leave, or she was being dismissed, which she found made her chest feel cold despite her brain trying to tell her that it was all for the best. It was the image of his back faced toward her that Iris kept replaying in her mind as she finally walked out the door and headed back to her room.

She forced herself to be calm and collected as she joined Bette in her bed and crawled under the covers. She drank the offered cocoa that was made for her, but the heat of the drink did nothing to battle the cold that had settled in her chest. Even as the light was turned off, and Bette immediately fell fast asleep, Iris found her chest still feeling cold and constricted, making it difficult for her to follow her bedmate into slumber.

Her eyes lingered on the wall separating her room from Barry’s, and she found herself staring at it solemnly, wondering what the occupant on the other side of that wall was doing. Unable to make herself sleep, she eventually rose from the bed and made her way to that wall, her bare feet silent on the wooden tiles. Iris placed her ear flat to the drywall and listened intently to the noises that came from the room next door. She immediately picked up the steady breaths of the room’s occupant who appeared to not have had the same difficulties that she had in falling asleep. Even so, she found herself unable to stop listening to those breaths, her mind making her imagine how his chest rose and fell with each one that escaped his lips. Her imagination made the image so vivid that she could almost feel her cheek rising and falling with each breath he took, as though her face was pressed to his chest instead of her wall. Imagining herself lying next to him, her body curled around his, feeling him breathe as he slept, made the iciness in her chest begin to fade and let the warmth trickle back in.

Iris finally pulled away from the wall, made her way back to her bed, climbed back under the covers next to Bette, and closed her eyes as she rested her head on her pillow. Even though she was now far away from the wall, and definitely out of range of those steady breaths she had heard through it, she swore she could still hear Barry breathing in her ear, and her imagination once again placed her by his side, uninhibited and unscarred, this time with him wrapped around her small body, allowing her to feel every single breath he exhaled throughout her entire being. She clung onto the image of him like a man overboard clinging to a life buoy. If she couldn’t be with him while awake, she would cling to being with him, blissfully unafraid and unshattered, any way she could - even if it was only in her dreams.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A million apologies to those of you who have subscribed to and commented on this story and have been waiting so long for an update. I've actually had this done for quite a while, but I wanted to make more headway into the next date before I published. Thank you so much for your patience. I see your support and I appreciate it more than you know! XOXO


End file.
